


A Little Too Far

by Tinq



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: And aromantic, Anxiety, Asexual Newt Scamander, Brothers, Comfort, Creatures, Drabble, Fluff, Hospital, Hurt/Comfort, Newt is my baby, Newt is such a cinnamon roll, One Shot, Recovery, hurt!newt, i am also aromantic so it's okay guys i got this, newt is asexual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-09-01 21:24:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 28,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8638636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinq/pseuds/Tinq
Summary: Newt Scamander and, unbeknownst to him, Grindewald face off in the subways beneath the city - but without anybody there to stop him, Grindelwald is ruthless in his path to claim Creedence. Only after the fight Tina, Queenie, and Jacob realize there's more to Newt's injuries than meets the eye.





	1. Modesty

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so... I haven't written anything fanfiction related in basically years, but after seeing Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them the other day, my passion for this world has rekindled. I just fell in love with this universe, these characters, all over again! I don't know if my writing skills hold up like the way they used to, but here's what I wanted to write anyway. I hope you enjoy!

     Very little remained in Newt's head after the fight. There was very little there upon entering the fight, if it made a difference - save Credence, protect the obscuris, help him, help him, help him - very little other than the intense stream of commands that echoed through his subconscious.

     Therefore Newt had not been expecting Percival Graves to put up such an intense fight whilst in the subway. Curses and spells shot back and forth, Newt aiming to stun or disable the opposing wizard, while clearly Graves had some other intentions in mind. The twisted steel of the subway tracks shut up beneath him, filling with electricity and shooting him out of the air and off his feet.

     "Crucio!" Newt could not have heard Graves hiss the Unforgivable curse beneath his breath, but he gritted his teeth as the pain shot through him, limbs twisting in agony, body writhing along the tracks. There was no more control over his body - there was nothing but the fiery breath of pain, the scourge of the relentless wizard pushing down upon him.

    Newt managed to grab his wand, sending out a stun with the flick of his wrist. It did very little to stop Graves, and within a moment later his arm had shot back out and Newt's body was twisting, rolling across the tracks in pain. Graves didn't even care enough to give the man his full attention.

     "Credance! I don't mean any harm - you are so powerful. I can teach you. I can show you the way." Graves walked swiftly forward, moving down to the train tracks, eyes darting down to Newt, who was struggling to point his wand once again at Graves. He kicked it out of Newts hand with a scowl, planting a heavy boot down on the mans neck. "You stay out of my way, you meddling freak."

     With a swift kick in the ribs, Graves walked past Newt, who had assumed a slight fetal position, cradling his wounds. Grabbing his wand, he twisted his body about, ignoring its cries of protest. "Petrificus Totalus!"

     Graves body stopped in its place and stood still. The noises of Credance moving about the subway landing became louder, closer, stronger, and Newt hobbled to his feet and began to sprint as fast he could manage down the tracks, following the sounds.

    Almost immediately after he rounded the corner, out of sight from Graves, the obscuris shot through the long hall, swinging Newt once again off of his feet, throwing him back thirty yards like a doll. He landed on his arm with a thud and a grunt, practically able to hear the bone break beneath the impact of the launch.

    Newt gripped his wand with his good arm, and after a moment, fought once again to his feet. "Credance! It's going to be okay. You can survive this, I promise. Just - just please. Come back down."

     Suddenly the halls about him were filled with people, aurors mingling together, voices yelling, spells casting. "No!" Newts cries were deaf to the sound of the Obscuris under the heavy fire of spells from all directions. Newt could hear Graves screaming in protest, the Obscuris screeching and writhing and destroying the very foundations of the subway itself.

      _No,_ Newt thought, his body tired, his eyes watering, teeth gritted and fists clenched in anger.  _They can't do this, they can't, not, let him, they can't..._

 

 

     The events that happened after Credance's vanishing were an immense blur. Graves - he wasn't graves, and thanks to Newt's good aim, he was captured and revealed to be Grindelwald.

     The sight of Tina and Queenie, along with Jacob by their side, warmed Newt slightly. His legs were shaky, his breathing uneven, his wrist throbbing and face bloodied and battered by the fight.

     "Merlins beard, Newt - are you alright?" Tina's anxious voice cut through the shock of the events.

     Newt nodded earnestly, wincing slightly in pain. "No, I'm alright, 's nothing really, I'm quite-"

     Jacob shook his head solemnly. "Man - I don't know much about you wizards, but you don't look too hot to me, Newt. What happened down here?"

     "He fought Grindelwald," Queenie answered, a hint of reverence resounding in her voice. "And Credance..."

     Tina was still trying to inspect Newt thoroughly, poking at his face and arm, trying to detect the strongest source of pain. "What did he do to you, Newt?" She shook her head, afraid of hearing what might have conspired, though she knew that Newt would answer with little more than a modest shrug. "We - we must get back to the apartment. Heal you properly."

     Newt shrugged, glancing down at his feet. "I think it might be best if I was to leave. 's just for the best I think - I've caused more than enough trouble here 's all."

     Tina and Queenie shook their heads, appearing more like sisters than ever. "You're staying," Tina said matter-of-factly, already her stern demeanor turning into one of comfort and concern. "There's no more trouble to be caused, alright? Let's get going."

 

     Saying goodbye to Jacob had taken another heavy emotional toll upon Newt. He felt drained, physically and mentally, his entire body burning in pain, his mind fatigued and racing with confusing thoughts.

     By the time that the three of them reached the apartment, he was on the verge of passing out. Tina supported him, one arm wrapped around her slender back. Newt stepped heavily, slowly, and soon enough they dropped him down onto a small cot and began to assess the damage.

     Immediately as the two women began to poke around his arms and face, Newt's eyes fluttered open. "No - 's fine. 's all fine. Please- just..."

     Queenie snapped her fingers sternly, and his mouth shut softly. Newt began to sit up in protest, only to be pushed back down by Tina, who was attempting to carefully maneuver his teal blue jacket from around his shoulders. Newt attempted some form of weak resistance, but in reality his body could not fight the gentle onslaught, and he allowed his protective layer to be stripped from him.

     Queenie gasped dramatically as she unbuttoned his orange vest, eyeing the scarlet stains soaking through the front of his shirt. "Oh, Mr. Scamander..."

     Tina opened up his shirt, Newt's mind so delirious from the pain that all he could think of was the tinge of red on his cheeks. "Stop. Please - 's... 's... fine..."

     Once again he began to sit up in protest, only to be pushed down a last time by Tina, who shushed him gently. As the back of Newts head met the pillow once again, his eyes fluttered slowly, and finally his mind surrendered itself to the luxury of sleep.

 

     Waking up the next morning felt like something out of a dream. Newts body felt detached - like his mind was simply floating through the atmosphering, flying through the air like a Thunderbird, soaring gently about through the breeze. There was no real thought, simply existence, no memory of the previous days happenings, no emotions to bog him down, no memories to taint the world around him. There was only darkness and the smell of tea.

     Until a clear, gentle voice spoke from the space left of him. "Mr. Scamander?" 

     Newts eyes fluttered open slightly, immediately reeling his body back down to Earth. Along with the physical experience came the sensation of intense pain. Newt groaned slightly in realization, his face aching, ribs sore, arms and legs feeling mashed and beaten.

     "Mr. Scamander? How are you feeling?" Newt was able to tilt his head slightly to the right, pleasantly surprised to see Tina sitting nervously on the cot beside him, holding a mug of tea and dressed in pyjamas.

     Newt licked his dry lips, shifting his neck back so that he stared at the ceiling. Trying to ignore that fact that there was no shirt along his bare chest, he murmured, "I've been better, I suppose."

     Tina chuckled. "I sure hope so. Magic helps a lot - but your nose was broken, along with a couple of ribs, and your wrist was fractured pretty bad. Your legs - and you had some cuts on your chest..." Her voice broke off slightly, feeling awkward in the weight of conversation topic.

     Newt turned back toward her. "Thank you, Tina. And Queenie, wherever she is, and I'm sorry. 's not really what I had in mind... as an end to the chaos. 's not fair to you."

     Attempting to resist another slightly chuck, Tina opted for a slightly nervous smile. "What do you mean, Mr. Scamander?"

     "Please, Tina, it's Newt - just because I'm hurt doesn't mean you don't know me." He shrugged slightly, immediately regretting the movement as he felt his aching body cry out in protest. "'s just - I already, I dunno. 's that I already barged in, and now you're talking care of me 's all. Not... fair. I dunno."

     The tenderness in his voice made Tina frown slightly. Why was he so scared now? Why did his words echo fearfully - why was he sorry?

     "You - must be a very humble man, Newt, to say things like that." She clucked slightly to herself, wishing Queenie was here to even out the aura of the room. "It's not your fault you were hurt, Newt."

     Inside, Newt saw it as quite the opposite.  _You should have fought harder,_ an angry voice in his head chided.  _And Creedance would still be alive._ Yet Newt said none of it aloud. "It kind of is- 'sn't it? I dunno - just, thank you, Tina."

     Tina fought hard not to protest him again, reminding herself how fragile the man was. His skin was pale, and half of his body was wrapped up in bandages. She opened her mouth to speak, about to gesture down to the tea, when suddenly Newts eyes widened and he tried heartily to sit up.

     "My creatures - Frank and the Mooncalves, the bowtruckles, they need to be - taken- care of-" Newt grunted and winced and pain as he sat up as far as his body would allow. Immediately Tina had played the tea on the bedside table and was attempting to push Newt back down into the bed, panicking as his face grew paler and paler with the straining effort.

     "Mr. Scamander! They are quite alright, they have all been taken care of!" The words came to Newts ears but he denied them vehemently. Nonetheless, no matter how hard he forced his body to push, he fell back down awkwardly on the bed, muscles sore, head throbbing, eyes watering ever so slightly with strain.

     Tina stood back up, letting out a quick sigh. "They were taken care of this morning, Mr. Scamander - Newt. Queenie and I figured things out well enough - we used some of your writings as a sort of guide. They all seemed fairly happy, though concerned over your absence."

     Immediately she could see emotion filling into his eyes at the words. "I miss them." He said simply, then moving his gaze from the ceiling back to Tina. Newt appeared heavily exhausted, now white as the sheets he lay upon. "I think - I'll rest some more. Tired 's all. I'll - I'll tend to them tomorrow."

     His eyes fluttered closed once again and Tina found herself grimacing slightly, walking silently out the room, and shutting the door silently behind her. Queenie sat at the kitchen table, an open newspaper laid flat on the dark wood, her eyes bouncing from the door to Tina. Her face was sad, and Tina found herself tilting her head in confusion. "What's wrong?"

     Queenie opened her mouth, then closed it again, shaking her head slowly. "It's Newt, I guess - Tina... he's a sad man."

     Tina pursed her lip slightly, moving over to the counter to pour herself a cup of coffee, eyes flickering to the half full pot of hot water as it floated in the air. "He didn't seem too sad, really, just upset he couldn't get to his creatures, Queenie."

     Queenie stood up, crossing her arms as if cold - the frown that painted her face made Tina uncomfortable and she attempted to turn away from it. But Queenie persisted. "No, Tina, not like that. I was listening to him, you know, his thoughts - and... and he's sad. He thinks this is all his fault. Newt's laying there thinking, he could not give one damn about himself. All he's thinking is that he's made a million mistakes."

     Tina stopped, the mug, suspended in mid-pour, hanging still in the air. "Does he really think that?" Her voice came out as a shocked murmur, and she cleared it, continuing the pour the water into the mug.

     "Relentlessly," Queenie replied, backing away slightly and adjusting her robe around her body. "What do you think we ought to do about this whole situation?"

     The mug settled down on the counter, and Tina picked it up, sipping at the hot liquid, and turning towards Queenie. She grimaced and cast her eyes over to the door, behind which Newt could be heard very quietly snoring. "Every damn thing we can."


	2. Unconscious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queenie and Tina realize that Newts injuries, even in his delirium, are quite extensive.

     The New York apartment was filled with expensive looking dark wood furtniture, neat, carefully placed, well dusted. In reality most of them had been picked up from various thrift stores and corner shops for a few dollars. Nonetheless, with the dim lighting, printed wallpaper, and various trinkets scattered about, the apartment had an air of regality. Perhaps, though, it was less where it was located and how much money was spent on its existence, but the women who lived inside of it, that gave it such immense charm.

     Tina and Queenie sat across from one another at the dining table. Queenie stirred a steaming mug of cocoa with her finger swirling around a few inches above it, engrossed in the business of the paper, which she had clenched in her opposite hand. A cup of tea sat adjacent to Tina, mostly full, gone lukewarm and soon to reach a cool temperate. Her eyes scanned the book that she held daintily in her hands, her mind far too engrossed in the story to pay attention to the cup Queenie had conjured for her.

     They had been sitting like that for perhaps an hour. The two women only moved to turn a page, or in Queenies case, take a small sip of cocoa, and continue to stir.

     A clock ticked slowly in the background. Sitting on the mantle on the opposite of the room, it read 6:38 in the evening. A stirring of wind picked up outside, and the window shutters rattled gently on occasion. The pitter patter of slight rain kept like a constant hum in the background.

     Though there was the occasional noise, otherwise the kitchen was suspended in a thick silence.

     The clock turned to 6:39 – Queenie took a sip of her hot cocoa, dropping her paper on the table. Tina looked up at her questioningly.

     Glancing towards the door, Queenie sighed, “I do think he’s awake – very active mind, that one.”

     Tina bit the inside of her cheek. “Do you think I should check on him?”

     “No, I think-“ Queenie’s eyes widened suddenly, and her chair scraped back as she stood quickly to her feet. Almost in the exact same moment of time, there came a slight cry from the bedroom to her right. “Yes, yes I think so.”

     Throwing her book down, Tina stepped quickly away from the table, pulling open the dark wooden doors that revealed the two now empty cots. At first confusion shot through her mind, until Queenie pushed past her and kneeled on the ground beside Newt.

     His face was pale, despite his freckled complexion, eyes wide but nonetheless clouded in desperate pain. His injured wrist had buckled underneath him, and sweat was pouring off of his forward.

     “Newt!” Tina knelt beside her sister on the floor, each of them grabbing a side of him. Though he was fairly light, his body was quite lanky, and both of them braced in the effort of lifting him back onto the bed. A small pool of blood was beginning to seep once again through the bandages on his chest.

     Queenie eyed the injury with fear. “Tina – I thought you said it was just a broken rib or two?”

     Biting her lip, Tina began to unwrap the injury as cautiously as she could. Newt was no longer stirring or denying her hands, only panting heavily and blinking furiously. His ginger hair had been matted down in tangles of sweat, and his skin was warm, bordering on hot.

     “Queenie, go get me scissors,” Tina ordered, afraid to roll the man over in order to assess his bandages. He hadn’t looked this pale earlier – what was so wrong? From Tina’s experience, while his injuries were quite extensive, broken bones should not bring such feverish and alarming behavior, even to someone as decidedly strange as Newt Scamander.

     Queenie rushed back into the room, pink robe billowing out behind her. She handed the scissors over to Tina with a shaky hand, then stepped back, biting her perfectly shaped fingernails. “What’s wrong with him, Tina? This – it’s not normal!”

     Nodding furiously, Tina began to clip gently at the bandages, that had been wrapped cleanly from his lower stomach all the way up to his armpit. The scarlet pool was continuing to widen, and Newt whimpered slightly in pain.

     The bandage gave away suddenly, and Tina stepped back in shock, nearly mimicking the gasp that Queenie had let out.

     Newt’s entire torso was covered in blueish, purple and red bruisings. There was an almost unseen gash peeking out from his side, and Tina found herself staring down at him in awe. How could she have missed that…?

     The two women stared down at him helplessly, until Queenie’s voice interrupted the stunned silence. “Tina – do something!”

     Nodding determinedly, she leaned over the left side of the cot, snatching up the first aid kit she had kept tucked away in the closet. Tina lifted out a smaller box within it, using a quick charm to cause it to open, and a pool of string to hover over Newt’s chest.

     “He’s going to need stitches, Queenie-“ Tina grabbed a small surgical needle from the box, using another charm to tie the string into the loop of the needle.

     Newt let out a small protesting groan. His body felt as if it was being beaten endlessly by some kind of mallet, with scorpions and fire and nails and-

     Tina began to stitch at the wound rapidly, Queenie kneeling back down and soaking up the blood on his chest with a thickly woven rag.

     “It’s going to be alright, Newt, we’re here.” Queenie’s voice was soothing and smooth as always, yet this time was also accompanied by a slight shake.

     Tina made quick work of the stitches, and after just another minute of tight movements, she was tying a knot at the end of the string and cutting it off from the pool. She tugged it tightly, wincing at the way Newts body shuddered at the feeling.

     “Newt – Newt? Can you hear me?” Tina stood up, moving closer to his face. His eyes fluttered slightly, and through the murkiness managed to land on Tina.

     Tina forced her tongue to sit straight, and tried her best not to babble at the somewhat helpless man. “Newt – do you remember, what curses Grindelwald used on you?”

     Newts eyes fluttered again, and he looked at Tina strangely, as if she was very far away from where he lay on the cot. “’s…. ‘s nothing to worry…”

     Placing a hand on the bed beside him, Tina gritted her teeth, moving closer to the mans face, trying not to take pity on him. Queenie was soon at her side, shaking her head.

     “I can hear it, Tina, don’t push him – Grindelwald, he used – he used crucio a lot…”

     Worry wrinkled Tina’s eyebrows, and she shook her head, frustrated. “But that can’t have such longlasting effects – can it?”

     Queenie shook her head. “I don’t know, Tina, I don’t – he used expulso, too – I can kind of see it, playing through his head? It’s quite blurry. The tracks on the subway – Tina, I think that’s what that gash is from. One of them went right into him.”

     Tina paled, looking down at her botched handiwork. “I think it might be best for us to go to a hospital-“

     The reaction from Newt was immediate. As soon as the word hospital had left Tina’s lips, his eyes widened and he tried to push his already shaking body up. “No – ‘s not a big deal. Not the hospital. ‘s all fine – ‘s-“

     Tina grimaced. What was this mans reasoning behind his actions? Didn’t Newt just want to be healed? “Nonsense – Newt, I don’t know how to treat all of this. I don’t even know what’s wrong with you.”

     Newts head shook vigorously, hair flopping about in his movement. He allowed is body to fall back down on to the cot, using his good arm to cover up his chest in defense.

     “No – please. ‘s going to be fine. Please. Please let me stay.” The primal begging in his voice scared Tina. She sighed, exasperated, and somehow also more worried than she had ever been in her life. Beside her, Queenie was thinking quickly, eyes scanning over his body.

     “Tina – he’s scared. I can hear it – he’s terrified.” Queenie’s usually crystal clear voice shook in fear. “He’s not showing why, if there’s even a real reason, but Tina – you won’t be able to take him without stunning him. And even then, how will we get him to St. Jouge’s? It’s all the way downtown. A no-maj ambulance won’t get us anywhere.”

     Tina’s mind was desperately racing over options, trying to ignore the way Newts breathing was becoming more and more labored. “We could apparate there, I’m sure-“

     “You’ll splinch him,” Queenie replied immediately, gesturing at his limbs. “He has no control over himself – we’ll lose his arms, his legs, his head-“

     “Okay!” Tina exclaimed, stepping away from the cot and walking back over the end of the bed, kneeling over the first aid kit. It was fairly large but contained little more than the basics. “Then you’ll have to tell me more of what he’s thinking. I don’t know how to treat him – was it just the stitches? Do we need to brew something?”

     Queenie shook her head in response, following her sister back over the end of the bed. “I can see it, playing out in his head. There was nothing but the curses – but he was tossed around quite a bit by the Obscuris. I believe that’s what caused the bruising along his stomach, along with his arm…” She paused slightly, eyes distant, and yet still looking down at Tina with worry. “No – his face, and his arm, those were from Gridelwald. But they will heal – do we have any skelegro in the house?”

     Tina turned from the first aid kit and back up to her sister, whose face had resumed some kind of calm in her reading. “What? His bones are fine – they’re going to heal naturally, I’ve secured his wrist.”

     “But his ribs,” Queenie shuddered slightly. “I’m reading too deep – I can feel his pain a bit. I think those train tracks may have broken something off. There’s no true way for us to tell – but if he took some skelegro, it could help.”

     To that Tina sighed slightly. “It would be in the cupboard under the sink, I suppose – I think we’re being a bit silly, though.”

     Queenie walked quickly out of the room, still speaking to Tina as she kneeled down before the kitchen sink. “What do you mean? I think skelegro will help – at the very least, it might help him heal a bit faster.”

     Tina stood up, walking over to the small washroom and soaking a white rag with cold water. She rung it out lightly. “Not that – do what you want with the skelegro. But he ought to be brought to a-“ She hesitated, glancing back at him. Tina did not want to stir him once again into a fit from using the word hospital. “You know what I mean, Queenie. We’re not doctors – we’ve no idea what could be wrong with him.”

     Queenie reentered the room with a slightly ancient looking bottle of skelegro, along with a small cup. Tina walked to the opposite side of the cot, placing the cold rag upon his head, and wiping it around a bit.

     Newt flinched under the cold, and drew his body in slightly. “Please... just - let me go. ‘s fine...'s...”

     Tina rolled her eyes, finally reaching an annoyed level at his protesting. “Shut up,” She snapped, ignoring Queenie’s reproachful gaze. The blonde woman poured a small portion of skelegro into the cup, the looked down at Newt compassionately.

     “Newt – would you mind taking a sip of this for me, sugar?”

     Even her sugar sweet voice did not stir him, though his mouth parted slightly. Queenie took it as a sign of delirious permission. She lowered the cup to his lips, and gently tilted it, until some of it dripped onto his tongue.

     Newts eyes squeezed shut in protest, mouth twisting at the taste. He nonetheless swallowed the liquid obediently, and even opened his mouth for me.

     “Thank you, Newt,” Queenie murmured. She placed the then empty cup back down on the night table, and looked back at Tina. “Should we give him some time then? See if that helped anything?”

     Tina hesitated. Was there anything left they could do but wait? She shook her head. “I think I’ll settle down in the other cot. Keep an eye on him, just in case.”

     Queenie didn’t bother objecting to her sisters idea, instead simply glanced down at Newt sympathetically. “Call me if you need anything, yeah?”

     Tina nodded, sitting down on the opposite cot as Queenie slid the doors closed behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone for reading that first chapter! Seriously, it means the world you've all left such positive feedback for me. I hope this second chapter lives up to expectations. I know it might be a bit slow, and I had to take some liberties on a few ideas, but I promise that in the next chapter, Newt will be awake and talking. I'd like to explore his character a bit more - but we'll get to that in a bit.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and let me know what you think!


	3. Anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Newts condition shows slight improvement, Queenie and Tina have growing concerns about his behavior. What is the magizooligist trying to hide? And what more can they do about his injuries?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I want to think all of you once again for reading and responding so positively to my story! What started as a one-shot has now become a story that I'm researching, plotting, analyzing - gah! You guys. I could not be more thankful honestly. 
> 
> Before you all continue to read, I'd just like to take a moment to say that, from here on out, I'm going to have to take a lot of liberties continuing forward with the story. I have been doing fairly extensive research about Newt Scamander's background, and while there are a lot of big ideas that are canon, a lot of what I'm going to be creating about Newt's personality is going to come from my own mind. 
> 
> Of course, there are thousands of fics that intertwine canon and AU ideas - but this is my first time in a while and I thought it would prompt a warning for my readers. I am not any J.K.Rowling nor do I claim to be, but just like any fanfiction writer I will do my best to give credit to her wonderful characters while maintaining a good story. :)
> 
> Enjoy!

     In the dream, he's at Hogwarts.

     He stands alone in an open archway. Great reddened oak doors are pulled open around him - there is not another soul inside. He stands, yellow and black robes billowing around him from the wind. Hair tousled back, eyes wide and full of some severe emotion. There is no recognition of the grey sky, nor the waters that could be seen down below the grounds, where the first years would arrive on their boats in the beginning of the year.

     The wind does not howl, or whistle past and through his ears. His robes do not shuffle loudly and the walls do not creak in the sudden influx of wind. There is only static silence. No breath. No clenching of teeth.

     He stares down at the land before him. His feet are nearly exactly half in and half out of the castle - his toes perched on the edge of the outside, his heels still existing in the framework of the castle.

     "Newt Scamander." A voice calls out. Even through the wind it sounds as if it came from behind him. His body twists eagerly, fearfully, ginger hair flopping over his forehead, over and into his eyes. The room remains empty. 

     He breathes out in fear. Had he imagined the voice? Was it just a figment of his preposterous imagination? A ludicrous sound his mind had made up in some makeshift form of comfort? Until it calls out once more, ringing clear as a bell.

     "Newt Scamander." He blinks in surprise, and suddenly there is someone standing there. Mere yards away. He blinks again - its his mother. There is a kind smile on her face. A silence plastered over her blue eyes, wrinkles around the crease of her eyelids. Mouth trembling in earnest, he steps forward. How many years had it been since he had spoken to - laid eyes upon - his dear mother? She said nothing. Her only reaction to him was a warming smile, eyes that trembled slightly under the weight of his attention. And more silence.

     He blinks again. His mother is gone. In her place, much taller and more stern is Albus Dumbledore. He holds in his hand a navy blue book, with rich gold inscriptions upon the front cover. Though he stands only a few meters away from Newt, the words are a jumble, a mess of the mind. There is no recognition in his eyes. There is a coldness, a distance that sets Newt back slightly. Thunder rolls deeply overhead, and the lanterns that light the room shake slightly. Albus Dumbledore opens his mouth to speak.

     Newt blinks again, Albus Dumbledore's figure replaced by that of Tina. Her cropped hair curled softly over her cheeks. There was confusion there, a hint of distance. It was almost as if Tina was trying to read him, the invisible words that were stamped all across his body, but he would not let her. She bit her lip, as if about to speak, but stopped. Hesitation clouded her eyes. Tina cast her eyes to the floor.

     Newt blinks, this time intentionally. His body immediately feels much smaller, much weaker. Theseus Scamander. Every inch of his face looks just the same as the last time he and Newt had shared an interaction. Disdain. Disappointment. Distance. Far colder than Albus Dumbledore had appeared, Theseus' eyes were not only severe, but they were ablaze in animosity. Not even a hint of recognition - that it was Theseus' brother standing before him, not a stranger.

     A tear gathered quietly in Newts eye. He blinked it away, this time expecting somebody else to appear in Theseus' place. But his brother had not moved. The mans fist were beginning to shake in rage, and Newt felt himself practically folding under Theseus' scrutiny. Lightning cracked outside, soon accompanied by a great lolling of thunder. The room became darker. The lights flickered severely, some of them flickering out, the room growing blacker and blacker and blacker. Theseus' teeth were bared. A stench of complete rage spread throughout the hall. Newt's nostrils flared, and he jumped as the doors behind him slammed to a shut. He could not seem to move his eyes away from his brother. Newts body remained completely motionless, as if petrified into place. Theseus' entire body was shaking now. It seemed to cause a sort of earthquake in the room, dust and other crumblings falling down around them.

     "Newt." Though Theseus did not truly yell the word, he managed to speak it with such intense displeasure, such immense hatred. Tears were gathering around Newts eyes, and he tried to blink, rapidly, but his body refused to move. They fell down through his eye lashes. They slid down his cheeks, dripping pitifully off of his chin. "You are no brother of mine."

     _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____

 

     The words came like a slap in the face, and Newt Scamander practically dove out of his bed. His blanket flew forcefully to the ground. A glass shattered on the floor beside him, and his eyes were wide in panic.

     Beside him, Tina's eyes blinked blurrily awake. The room was completely dark - her body shot straight up, messy brown hair flying about her eyes. "Newt?" Her voice shook in fear. "Newt, what - are you-?"

     Tina flew out of bed in a single motion, practically knocking into Newt in the process. She ran over to the front of the room, flipping on a lightswitch. As the room became blanketed in the warm electric glow, Tina startled at the sight of Newt. His hair was fair less sweat-matted, but nonetheless flopped helplessly in front of his eyes. His body was bent out at odd angles, arms tucked in like a bird, legs jutting and shaking. His eyes were clenched tight and his mouth open, breathing heavily.

     "Queenie!" Tina's voice broke as she called. Quickly hurrying to his side, she pushed his sweating body back down onto the cot, trying her best not to push down at his ribs or arm in the process. "Queenie, come quick, I'm going to need a wet rag!"

     A tired, croaking voice called back, still bogged down with sleep. "Tina? What's wrong?"

     The brown haired witch tried to position Newt comfortably. His eyebrows were wrinkled and eyes shut so tightly that it looked close to painful. "I need a wet rag, Queenie!"

     The alarm in the air seemed to wake the other sister up. "On it!"

     Tina brushed Newts hair out of his face, trying to push it back and failing, her fingers falling into its easy trap. "Newt? Newt, are you alright? What's wrong?" She tried desperately to soothe him, running a hand down the side of his face anxiously. "Newt - it's alright! You're safe, you can open your eyes, it's just me, it's just Tina-"

     At first it appeared as if Newt himself could not even hear the words she was saying, but after a few moments, the mans eyes squinted open, and he mustered a small groan. Though he was intensely panicked for reasons Tina could not explain, she let out a sigh of relief. His eyes were not longer cloudy, and it felt as if he had slept off most of the small fever he'd developed in the morning. 

     Queenie threw the sliding doors open suddenly. Her shining pink nightgown shimmered in the light as she ran to the other side of Newts cot, clutching a water soaked rag in her hand. "Oh, sugar, what's wrong?" She lifted the rag to his forehead, placing the back of her other hand upon his cheek. "Newt honey, are you alright?"

     His eyes blinked open. There was recognition in his gaze, and he let out a breath, as if he had been holding it deeply in. "'s fine, 's fine - 's a bad dream is all. Honestly. 'm okay."

     Tina shook her head, half in exasperation and half in relief. "My god, Newt - you shot out bed. You scared me half to death." 

     What were meant to be only words of relief appeared to only make Newt more anxious - how could one person contain so much pure nervousness? His eyes crinkled in fear and apology. "I'm so sorry, honestly. 's nothing, I swear, it was just... 's fine. 'm sorry."

     Just watching the way Newt was so endlessly apologetic broke up Queenie, and she couldn't help but use her Legilimence in order to try and understand what was going through Newts head. Despite the anxiety that practically radiated off of him, Queenie was able to see a few things through the thick, sticky waves of fear and apology. The first was an image of a man - he looked older to Newt, and quite different, though somehow he resembled the magizoologist in some way. They had the same crinkle around their eyes, and nearly the exact same shade of hair. The most noticeable difference, though, was the absolute rage that was plastered across the mans face. Queenie blinked back in fear, glancing up at Tina nervously.

     Tina was gazing down at Newt now in apology. "No! No, Newt, it's not what I meant. But - are you hurt more at all? How do you feel?"

     Another thought flashed quickly through Queenie's mind. She watched as Newts face paled slightly, and his eyes fluttered in confusion. "'s - 's weird, honestly, my arm, feels... 's better, I can tell." He squeezed his eyes shut briefly, popping them open again, and glancing at Tina. "Chest, too - feels better." He paused briefly again, eyes searching the room, as if the words he was about to speak were written upon the ceiling. "My, my head though - 'm fine honestly, 's just feeling kind of heavy is all."

     A pained expression crossed over his face, and Tina winced at the sight of him. "We're taking you to St. Jouge's, Newt, there's no way -"

     Newts eyes immediately flashed with pain again, and both of the women cringed at the way his face folded so deeply in fear. "No!" He clearly hadn't meant to shout, and his eyes showed the immense regret, but he still continued to babble on. "No, 's fine, please don't - please, I want to stay here, 's not a big deal! 's okay... 'm fine, you can both handle this. 's just something that needs time. 'm... please, don't. Tina, please, Queenie."

     Tina sat up, fighting against a tear that was trying to gather beneath her eye. The man was just too endearing, too deeply rooted to not affect her, but nonetheless she stood and moved away from his cot. "Queenie - we really ought to take him. I don't know what to do anymore-"

     Queenie shook her head, standing away from Newt's cot. "No. We'll only make it worse, Tina, I can guarantee that. You heard him - his arm and chest are feeling better, and he felt alright enough to stand." She looked back at him compassionately, watching as he squinted his eyes shut. Perhaps it was little more than a trick of the light, but it looked slightly as if he was weeping silently. Queenie shook her head again. "Look at him, Tina - let him stay. He's going to be better, I can feel it." She lowered her voice slightly, taking half a step closer to her sister, blonde curls bouncing. "Listen, Tina, tomorrow, we'll get him out of bed. We'll walk him about, make sure he looks up to shape. And if he can't handle it, we can call someone to come over, a specialist or the likes. But I swear it, if we try and apparate him over, he's going to lose an arm."

     Tina opened her mouth to reply, then shut it helplessly. Newt lifted his good arm and wiped his eyes slowly, sitting up slightly in the bed. Only after all the commotion did he notice the way half of his chest remained exposed to the world. He pulled up the blanket so that it wrapped around him, leaving only his scarred and battered shoulders exposed. Tina glanced back at Queenie with a tiny nod, then moved back over to Newts bed, pushing her hand up to his forehead. "I'm going to bring you a glass of water, alright? Then - we'll see how things are tomorrow."

     As Newt sat there on the bed, he felt rather small, and very much the way he felt when he was a small child. He could take care of himself - surely he had been in much worse situations before, on his many misadventures? He shook his head minimally, trying to push his shoulders back to appear slightly larger than he felt in the past few moments. "No, Tina, 's alright. Honestly, I've dealt with much worse - 's just a couple of broken bones. I can take care of myself well enough." Newt tried to cast out a small smile at the two witches, trying to bring a light into his eyes. "Really. 's all okay, I'm alright." 

     Tina mirrored his small smile, but shook her head, and stood away from the caught and moved towards the door. "Nonsense, Mr. Scamander. That's what friends do, alright? Just let us help out. It's going to be alright."

     Queenie swished her hand, causing Newt to fall back down onto the bed with a huff. She smiled cheesily, twirling a bit in her nightgown while Newt stared at the ceiling, shyly exasperated. "I think you two are just trying to hold me hostage, honestly. 's quite alright."

     Queenie let out a giggle, walking, almost dancing, through the open doors. "I think you're a bit right - but you've got a lot of explaining to do, sweets, it's not just my job to listen to it all."

     Newt opened his mouth to protest. "I don't think it's-"

     "Relax," Queenie laughed. "It seems you've got a lot of worry in you, and quite a bit of fear." She bit her lip, glancing into the kitchen. "Tina hates when I intrude on people like this, but - you don't need to be scared of the hospital. That man doesn't work there anymore."

     Newts eyes blinked in surprise. "What-?"

     Queenie raised a finger to her lips, and followed her sisters path out to the kitchen, leaving Newt to sit, disoriented, alone in the room. 

     Outside, snow began to fall.


	4. Motion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queenie and Tina are finally able to move Newt in the direction of recovery - but are things going to go as easy as planned? What is Newt still trying to hide?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am seriously SO freaking thankful for all the people reading and commenting on this work!! Just hearing what you all think makes my heart explode. I really hope you guys are enjoying this so far, please don't forget to bookmark so you can get updates on new chapters!
> 
> I just got home from seeing Fantastic Beasts again. While I definitely didn't need another bag of popcorn in me I just loved it as much as the first time - and it gave me a chance to look for more details I might use in my writing!
> 
> Hope you all enjoy, let me know what you think below!

     Perhaps one of the many reasons Porpentina Goldstein had fallen so deeply in love with New York was the way it displayed the seasons. Summer was green and lush and not so warm that it drove her mad. Spring was full of blooming flowers, fresh bakeries reopening again after the long winter, finally getting out of the house and stretching out her legs. Autumn was so effortlessly beautiful. The way the leaves changed was truly magic to her - how everything turned soft and grey, how even despite the rain and fog it was almost always a perfect scene.

     But perhaps winter had grown to be her favorite over time. New York in the snow just made her heart swell. Tina loved wearing her tall, sturdy boots out, walking around the streets, drinking warm pumpkin cider and indulging in sweet holiday treats. Watching the snow fall outside while sitting with her sister by the fire - that was always when she felt most connected, most grounded to her small family. It was truly when she felt happiest.

     Tina sat on the few steps of her apartment, trying to remember when it was that the thought had come to her - that winter was simply the best month. Around her a dusting of snow fell gently to the ground, melting on her skin, trembling in the wisps of hair that fell around her cheeks. The street lamps of the mostly empty street cast a strange orange glow upon everything the light could touch. Her fingers were encased in warm knit gloves, a gift from Queenie, and her navy blue coat pulled tightly around her. 

     Despite the chill in the air, it had been Queenie's idea for Tina to take a breather in the dead of the night. Newt had scared the daylights out of Tina upon jumping out of bed, and Queenie couldn't stand to hear how anxious Tina had become in the wake of his nightmare. While the two sisters shared rather differing opinions about the use of St. Jouge's, both of them agreed - the next morning, Newt was going to get out of bed and see how he felt.

     A hand on her left shoulder caused Tina to jump, nearly falling off the stone steps that led up to her apartment building.

     "Relax, Teenie!" Queenie drew her hand back in surprise. "It's too cold to stay out here, Teenie, I think you ought to come back out. We should both try and get some sleep." Queenie drew her thin robe around her tightly, folding her arms to protect her body from the cold. She shivered nonetheless, her satin nightgown doing very little to protect her body.

     Tina let out a shuddered breath, watching the warm air expel from her mouth like mist. "I know, I was about to come up, Queenie." She paused, glancing upwards at the apartment. "Has he gone back to sleep then?"

     Queenie nodded, stepping back inside a bit to shelter from the snow. "Yes - he quite liked the soup, I think, no matter how insistent he was about not wanting it. Such a darling man, Teenie - but yes, he's gone to sleep."

     Sighing to herself, Tina nodded resolutely. "I just feel so awake now. And the city is so beautiful at night..." Inside, Tina knew that she would never speak so dreamily to anyone but her sister. It wasn't necessarily weak to her eyes, merely silly. Why talk of the beauty of the city when there was so much dirt and dust collecting over it, too? 

     But Queenie always seemed to understand. "I know. And it's as cold as it is beautiful. And there's a sleeping man upstairs, Tina, we're on babysitting duty right now it seems." She grinned slightly, gesturing at her sister to come back inside. "I don't think its a job we can very well just walk away from."

     "I'm afraid not," Tina replied, stepping inside after her sister. The two walked quietly upstairs, careful not to disturb the other residents, stepping inside their own apartment with a sigh of relief. Queenie had left the bedroom doors open, and from the kitchen Tina could hear Newt's snoring, and see the gentle rising and falling of his chest.

      With a yawn, Tina gestured into the room, hanging up her coat and mittens by the front door. "I think its your turn to have the bed, Queenie. I'll bunk on the couch for the rest of the night."

     Queenie smiled in response. "Why, thank you, Teenie - I'll be off to bed then." Queenie picked up the quilt that she had left bundled up on the couch, and handed it to her sister with a tiny yawn. "I'll wake you if I need anything."

     "Please do," Was Tina's only reply, and she lay down quietly on the couch, curling her body into a small ball. _In the morning, things will be different,_ she thought tiredly. _In the morning, things will be better._

 

_____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____

 

     "Newt, we'll be making porridge for breakfast, then. Do you think you're up to joining us in the kitchen or-?" Newts head popped up from the pillow where it had been laying comfortably. An endearingly tired while also somewhat alarmed look spread across his face, illuminated by the yellow morning light streaming in through the window beside him.

     "Oh - I quite think I'll be able to join you in there. But you don't have t' cook for me, Queenie, 's alright." Just by the expression on the blonde haired witches face, Newt could tell his words hadn't made a different.

     She clapped her hands together excitedly. "Oh, that's wonderful! I'm so glad you're feeling better." She turned round to the kitchen, where Tina was speeding around, setting the table with a flick of her hand while the other stirred a steaming pot. "Did you hear that, Teenie? He's feeling much better."

     Tina glanced over at the two with a small smile. She turned back to her porridge. "It's about time, Mr. Scamander."

     Newt sat up, ignoring the slight ache in his muscles, and through the thick white blanket over the side of his body, bare feet hovering over the floor. "'s alright if you call me Newt, you know." He slid forward slightly, beginning to stand. "Ehm, d'you think I could have a shirt to wear?"

     Tinas eyes flickered over at the sight of him about to stand, dropping her ladle into the porridge and rushing over to his side. "Mr. - Newt, Newt, relax, please don't strain yourself -"

     "Oh, 'm alright, really," The slight strain in his voice at sitting up alone was enough to keep the Goldstein sisters from being convinced. Tina offered out her arm as a bar of support.

     "Just, please, use my arm, alright?" She bit her lip nervously as Newt placed a large, gentle hand upon her forearm, using it to push up off the bed. As his legs straightened out, Newt wobbled, and Tina clutched onto his arm in a steadying motion.

     Newts face looked slightly pale, but nonetheless quite determined. "'m quite alright... see? I can-"

     Queenie shot Tina a bracing look as she interrupted Newt. "Except, honey, your heads still achin', your arm's throbbin', your chest is heaving, and you're quite hungry, aren't you, sugar?" Tina glared back at Queenie, but it didn't face the other sister.

     Newt, on the other hand, was flabbergasted, and slightly defensive. "You - Queenie, I'd quite like it 'f you didn't read my mind."

     The words were, of course, not meant to be rude at all, coming from Newt Scamander, but Queenie feigned offense. "Well, your mind is just begging to be read, is all. Not my fault I do love a good book." Then Queenie turned back around and moved into the kitchen, a satisfied bounce in her step.

     Tina rolled her eyes. "Sorry," She whispered. "I try and tell her-"

     "No," Newt interrupted quickly, his voice cracking slightly. "No, 's quite rude of me to say such a thing, 's not her fault."

     "I don't want you to have to worry about her reading you like that all the time." Tina moved forward slightly, enticed by the sent of her own porridge steaming through the air.

     Newt took a shaky couple of steps forward, pausing to look at Tina. "Well, Ms. Goldstein, the way I see it, when you worry, you suffer twice."

     Tina smiled and nodded towards the kitchen. "Let's try and make it in there, yeah? And we can have some breakfast then."

     Newt nodded and began to walk unsteadily out of the room. There was a definite limp in his step, and his shoulders were hunched down, whether that be from his injuries or the modesty at having his shirt removed yet to be seen by Tina. Queenie pulled out a chair for him, and he nodded graciously, sinking into it with a thud. His cheeks were a tinge of pink - once again from embarrassment or sheer effort, the Goldstein sisters could simply not tell.

     Queenie removed the large steaming pot from the heat, placing it down on the center of the table with a controlled thud. The scent of warm, seasoned porridge drove Newts stomach mad, but he didn't move his body a single inch, instead, glancing around the apartment in what was supposed to be a polite interest.

     Tina shook her head, amused, using another flick of her fingers to send three bowls flying through the air. They circled around the porridge pot, each taking two or three ladles full, then spinning off in the air to land grandly in front of each of the tables guests.

     Queenie grinned down at the bowl, then looked eagerly across at Newt. "Dig in, sweetheart! Might be a little hot, but just as good."

     Newt nodded gratefully, waiting for the two sisters to pick up their own spoons first, out of a very strange mix of awkwardness and politeness. As soon as Tina had her first spoonful, Newt followed suit. His mouth was instantly comforted by the warmth of the porridge, and it sat very comfortably in his belly.

     The more that he ate, the better that he slowly felt, his headache being pushed to the back burner of his mind. "This is fantastic," Newt commented shyly between spoonfuls. "'s the best porridge I've had in my entire life."

     Tina laughed, glancing over at the man with a raised eyebrow. "Really? Then you've had some extraordinarily bad bowls of porridge in your time, Mr. Scamander."

     Newt glanced up at her, embarrassed. "Perhaps you're right- but please, call me Newt. 's far too formal to call me Mr. Scamander." He winced slightly at his words. "Sorry, I hadn't meant to be rude, 's just... sorry."

     The two Goldstein sisters exchanged the most minuscule of glances, but it was Queenie who was able to speak first. "How would you feel about getting out of the house today, Mr. Scamander?"

     Tina could see the expression in Newts eyes - slight wincing at the name of 'Mr. Scamander' once again, and also just a bit of apprehension. "Ehm, I don't really know, Queenie. Where would we go?"

     Queenie's eyes flashed excitedly. "I have a place in mind - don't worry, 's not very far. I promise you'll enjoy it." Her eyes appeared sondered for a moment, and her shoulders sank. "Oh, I'm quite sorry. I'll make sure to call you Newt from now on, then."

     "What?" Newt looked up at her, jarred. "Oh - oh, 's alright, I wasn't trying to-"

     "No, of course not, sweetie!" Queenie was quick to jump to Newts defense. "I just couldn't help but read that."

     Tina shook her head, visibly bewildered. "Could someone clue me in here?" She noted the flustered way Newt glanced down at his hands.

     Queenie said nothing, looking all too expectantly at Newt. He looked up at the two of them, lowering his shoulders, as if trying to vanish from underneath their concerned gazes. "No, it's, just - 's my brother is, Mr. Scamander. I'm just Newt, 's all."

     "Oh," Tina leaned back slowly in her chair, processing his words. "Well - Newt, how about we all get dressed then we can be back here by noon? You still have a good deal of resting to do."

     Newt nodded slowly, trying to ease his awkwardness by nodding down at his bowl of porridge. "'s fantastic - again, it was... fantastic." He glanced around suddenly, as if a thought had struck him on his head. "Where-?"

     "It was on the other side of your Cot, Newt," Queenie interjected with a grin. "Don't worry, I really think your creatures are beginning to like Teenie and I quite a bit. Especially the mooncalves."

     Newt broke away from his awkward shell and braved a toothy grin at her answer. "I'm very glad to hear that - is Pickett doing well with the other bowtruckles?"

     "Yes," This time it was Tina who answered, with a rather excited smile plastered upon her face. "He likes it quite a lot down there. Not to say he doesn't prefer your coat pocket, but he seems to be doing very well."

     "Thank you both, so much, for taking care of them," Newt responded. Words could not describe the great deal of emotion that echoed through his voice - perhaps the man had never been thankful for something so much in his entire life. "And... ehm, thank you. For taking care of me - 's very sweet of you two. I feel, after everything has happened, I haven't really brought much other than... bad fortune, into your lives, and 'm sorry for that-"

     "Ugh, Mr- Newt, really!" Tina could not help but allow the annoyance to slip into her voice, despite the tired grin she wore. "You are out friend. We genuinely want to help you, okay? You don't have to apologize for being human."

     Newt shrugged sadly, blinking in surprise. Queenie opened her mouth to speak, but shut it a moment after, her eyes scanning Newts face as if reading a book.

     Ignoring the fact that his mind was currently being read by the legilmence opposite him, Newt grappled to his feet, using the table as support, then walked on shaky legs back over to the bedroom. "Getting out of the house sounds quite nice, actually." He paused inside the bedroom door, cheeks a tinge of pink. "I'll - I'll get dressed then."

     Tina stood, nodding, sliding the bedroom doors shut for him. "Just give a yell when you're ready to go, Newt."

     The man nodded, eyes on his feet as the bedroom door closed before him.

     Tina turned back to her sister, who had stood, her eyes widened in excitement. "You've got to hear what I just read, Teenie."


	5. Destination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queenie and Tina are able to successfully leave the apartment with Newt in order to visit an old friend. But why does Newts condition seem to keep getting worse? Why won't he let the Goldstein girls take him to the hospital?
> 
> Warning: Mentions of abuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many comments and kudos and bookmarks AH! You guys - you've all no idea how thankful I am for you reading my writing! Seriously, I was crazy nervous to post this up here but now I am really enjoying moving the plot along and playing with these characters. It means the world to me that you're all enjoying it so much.
> 
> As always, bookmark for more updates and let me know what you think in the comments! Thank you all so freaking much for reading, hope you enjoy this chapter!

     "Queenie - no."

     "But I wasn't doing it on purpose really, I just think-"

     "Queenie! That is such an invasion!"

     "Well, I read your thoughts all the time, and you don't seem to have much to say about that."

     "'Cause you're my sister, Queenie, I'll never have anything to say about it. You've been reading me for years - what could I be hiding?"

     "But you never object!"

     Tina buried her face in her hands, ignoring the way her navy blue coat bunched up around her neck. "Queenie, please. He's clearly a private man, don't go just reading him like that. It's all I'm saying, it's quite rude."

     Queenie sighed over-dramatically. "Okay, then I'll try and stop from now on - but you need to hear what I read!"

     "Don't you get the point of what I'm trying to say here?" Tina stood up, looking forlornly towards the bedroom doors. "D'you think he's alright, Queenie?"

     "It's been three minutes," Queenie huffed, standing up to move closer to her sister. "And I get the message, Teenie, I do, I'll stop, but this is important! Please, just hear me out."

     Tina did not speak for her moment, watching the bedroom door expectantly. There was still no call. She turned to Queenie with a haughty roll of her eyes. "Fine. What could possibly be so important-?"

     Queenie didn't even give her sister a chance to finish the sentence. "Newts brother, Theseus, you've heard of him right? Don't answer, I know you have - well, from what I've read, and it's quite hard to piece together with Newts accent, and on top of that his thoughts are incredibly scattered - this Theseus isn't quite as nice as we've been hearing." She paused briefly to swallow, then continued to babble rapidly. "I've heard him by dozens of names - boy hero, wizarding savior, war legend - but from what Newts been saying, it seems Theseus - I can't tell. I think Theseus may have abused him in some way - I truthfully can't tell."

     Tinas eyes opened widely, and she clasped a hand over her gaping mouth. "You mean - like Credence?"

     Queenie shook her head vigorously. "That's the thing - there's no memories like that. I searched pretty hard in there, but something went wrong, and it was more than a fight. There might have been some accusations, and there is definitely something about St. Jouge's."

     "Which is why he's so hesitant to-!"

     Tinas excited whisper was cut off as one half of the bedroom door slid slowly open, revealing Newt standing there crookedly. He appeared surprised at the two sisters' presence, feeling the urgency in the air. "'s something wrong-?"

     Tina turned around to face him fully, eyes full of sympathy. "Of course not! Are you ready to go?"

     Newt glanced down at himself. "Ehm - 's, well, 's fine, but I can't seem to button this quite right without my other arm. D'you think maybe...?"

     Queenie jumped towards him brightly, already beginning to button up the mustard yellow vest that he wore consistently over his stained white shirt. Newts cheekbones tinged pink, and he blinked rapidly at Queenie's sudden movements. "Oh - thank you, then, Queenie."

     The blonde haired witch leapt back, admiring her handiwork. "Not a problem, sugar! Need your coat then? It's been snowing all night, you know."

     Newt nodded, beginning to limp towards the coat rack by the front door. Tina beat him there quickly, picking up his long, teal trench coat and handing it to him quietly. "We aren't going far, it's just down a block or two." She paused slightly, watching him slowly encase his injured arm in the sleeve of the trench coat. "Please let us know if you're getting tired, Newt. There's no rush to go anywhere."

     Tina shot a knowing glance at Queenie, who smiled triumphantly. "So you do want me to read him, then!"

     With a sigh, Tina grabbed an umbrella off the coat stand and opened the door. Newt walked haphazardly behind her, Queenie shutting the door behind them and leaving the silent apartment to its self.

     In the bedroom, one of the polished golden connectors on Newts suitcase flipped open.

_____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____

 

     By the time Queenie, Tina, and Newt had made it down the sidewalk of the first block, Tina had closed the umbrella and handed it over to Newt. He looked at her incredulously.

     "'s it normal in America to give the cripples the harder jobs?" There was a nervous teasing to his voice. Queenie noted the growing comfort in the man and smiled to herself - he was not only getting better, but he was growing complacent.

     Tina smiled back at him. "Oh, stop - I thought you might like to use it for support. Like a cane, maybe."

     Though when Newt pictured himself hobbling down the streets with a cane in his older years, he was hardly expecting such a time to come so soon. "Oh," He took the umbrella with a tiny laugh, flipping the item upside down and adjusting it in his hand. "'s nice. Thank you."

     Tina nodded in response, watching as her boots cut through the slush of snow that was left on the sidewalks of New York. For such a cold day it was quite crowded outside. Flocks of people drifting this way and that, sticking their shivering arms out in the street for cab, gathering in herds to read the newspaper, sitting quietly in front of doorsteps, just as Tina had done the previous night. She sighed vapidly, noting that she much preferred New York when it was less full of buzzing crowds.

     Queenie let the three of them across the street, glancing this way and that before darting across. Tina followed suit, while Newt struggled to increase his pace. A taxi honked as he struggled to move in front of it, and as he caught up with the two Goldstein sisters he waved off their expressions of regret.

     "'s fine, 'm fine, they were just impatient 's all."

     Tina shook her head. "I swear, I just - forgot, all of a sudden."

     "'s really fine, Tina - but I think we could have just apparated to wherever we're going instead, I think it would have been much simpler."

     This time it was Queenie who interjected, turning her head back with her answer. "You'd've been splinched in a moment, sugar. You might feel like you're in control, but you might just lose a rib."

     Newt didn't bother arguing, only continued, trying to hurry his pace as much as he could after the two sisters. The cold didn't bother him a bit, not just because of his thick jacket, but more so because of his acclimation to so many different climates. He was as comfortable in Sudan as he was in Greenland - a fond memory of a large silver dragon floated through his mind.

     He was so occupied with the thought that he pushed right into Tina as the two sisters stopped before a shop. "Oh - so sorry, I was-"

     Newts words were cut short as she stopped, noticing where the three of them stood. He straightened his body suddenly, not even noticing the grin that was slowly spreading across his face. The scent of warm baked goods drifted through his nostrils, and though his stomach was still full of porridge, his mouth watered at the tantalizing scent.

     "Kowalski Bakery," Newt breathed, glancing over at the two of them. "'s it alright 'f we go inside? I don't want to stir up anything with MACUSA, 's just a little..."

     Queenie nodded, excited. "It's perfectly alright if we go in. I have quite a surprise for you."

     Newt glanced at her inquisitively, and the two Goldstein sisters stepped forward, holding open the door for an old woman on her way out. Newt stepped in a second after, bowing his head at the in thanks, and Tina and Queenie followed after.

_____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____

 

     The Kowalski Bakery was a practically magical combination of sparing decorations but a constant, bustling crowd. Its walls were small, and the floor was old and bending underneath the immense weight of the constant crowd, but there was not one care in the world when customers walked in. All they saw was bread - pastries, doughnuts, birnbrot, cannoli, croissants, eclair, macarons, rhubarb tart, slices of pie, and carefully crafted rolls of streudel, topped with small, flaky flowers. The most extraordinary, and perhaps the most exciting to Newts wide, beaming eyes, were the creations that did not truly have names, only words of resemblance.

     An upright, glazed pastry with bright eyes resembled that of a demiguise - Newt walked round the casings inside, mouth stretched wide in a toothy grin of wonder. Small puffs that greatly resembled erumpents that were placed carefully around in circles, protected by removable glass cases.

     Newt glanced back at Tina and Queenie, eyes full of childlike excitement. "This - this was Jacob?"

      Tina opened her mouth to speak, but shut it, as her eyes moved excitedly behind Newt and to the counter that lay behind him. She nodded in the direction, and Newt swiveled around as fast as he could on such shaky legs.

     "I heard my name, was anyone-?" Jacob Kowalski stood, arms extended, a grin planted on his mustached face. His eyes were alight in joy, and as his gaze locked with that of Newts his smile somehow managed to grow even broader. "Oh! N-"

     Queenie stepped forward. "Not us again! My apologies, Mr. Kowalski, but I just had to come back again today. I'm simply in love with these little - animals. You have such creativity."

     Jacobs smile remained though his eyes became questioning. Queenie granted him a small wink, and he nodded in some kind of confusion, mixed with understanding as Tina bit her lip. "Oh -uh, well, it's nice to have you back then, Mr. Goldstein!" Jacob's voice was all too exaggerated, even though in the moment the bakery was not entirely filled. "And it's, uh, nice to meet your friends, then."

     Tina nodded gently towards Queenie, who stepped forward graciously. "Well, Mr. Kowalski, I was just thinkin', maybe after work today you'd like to sit down, perhaps come have a meal with my friends here?"

     Excitement could not describe the emotion that lit up in Jacob's eyes, and though he was clearly fighting to not say more, he nodded his head vigorously. "I - I would be delighted! I'll-"

     "Eight o'clock sharp. You know the place." There was no fight on Queenie's part to contain the charm in her voice, and she ended the conversation with another small wink. "We'll see you then, Mr. Kowalski."

     Queenie turned around sharply and walked back through the door. Tina nodded a more polite goodbye, while Newt looked back and forth, mostly confused, before following Tina out the door. "Well - bye, then," He stammered roughly.

     Jacob merely cast a meek wave in reply, and turned to greet the next customers that approached the counter.

_____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ 

 

     "Wow," Newt let out a breath of exhaustion as the three stepped back out into the cold air, the bell hooked to the top of the bakery door ringing behind them. "I certainly wasn't expecting that. 's strange..."

     Tina shook her head, hair billowing slightly in the wind. The air outside had grown sharper, and a minuscule flurry of snow began to fall. "It is strange - I haven't told MACUSA, of course, that he remembers. Don't want them to come obliviate him or anything of the sort."

     Queenie led the way back down the sidewalk, swerving carefully through the crowds of New Yorkers, Tina attempting to make more room for Newt, who was clearly beginning to lag behind. His voice didn't let it show. "I just don't understand - 's it only Jacob, of all the Muggles that had their memories erased?"

     Tina nodded, trying to ignore the doubt that tugged at her as Newts pace grew slower and less steady. "I've been doing some... private investigating. Nothing MACUSA knows about. Queenie helps a lot - and it's just Jacob. Can't figure out, but I mean, why complain? It's Jacob."

     A small tremor shook through Newts chest, and he folded in on himself with a grunt. Tina glanced back at him, concerned. "Newt? What's wrong?"

     Queenie whipped back around immediately, a look of worry crossing over her face. The two Goldstein sisters pulled the man off the bustling sidewalk and to a wide alleyway that hosted a few darkened lanterns and large dumpsters. Newts body shook slightly and his breathing was heavy.

     "Newt? What's wrong?"

     Newt shook his head, his throat tightening. His eyes were flashing left and right, searching for something in the darkened alley. "I'm-" He coughed, sputtering on his words, squashing the thoughts running through his mind.

     Queenie glanced nervously around the alley. The last thing that they needed were spectators, on top of that No-Maj's.

     A small dot of blood splashed out of Newts mouth, and the Goldstein sisters exchanged a look mingled with pure fear. Newt glanced down at his hand, trying to wipe away the blood, but the damage was done.

     A pained expression crossed Newts face. "No - no, 's, please, please, please, no-" A wave of nausea crept upwards from his stomach into his throat, and his eyes fluttered painfully. "-'s...fine...."

     His legs folded beneath him, and the umbrella he kept clutched in his hand fell with a flatter onto the concrete ground. Tina and Queenie each grabbed for his arm, but nothing could stop his body as it slid backward from the wall to the floor.

     The moment he landed, Newt was completely unconscious.

      


	6. Setback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Newt was delighted to see his old friend Jacob, events took a turn for the worse when he collapsed on the way home with Tina and Queenie. The two Goldstein sisters rush him to St. Jouge's, Queenie crossing her fingers that he isn't too mad when he wakes up. But what was so wrong with Newt that he fainted in the street? And what if things go wrong at St. Jouge's?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! This chapter was definitely long in the coming, but I'm glad I'm finally hitting more plot and action in the story. Thank you all so much for reading and leaving such amazing comments! I am so thankful for all the critiques, support, positivity, everything! It means the world.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter immensely! As always, bookmark this work if you'd like to receive updates on new chapters, and let me know what you thought below!

     "D'you think we should apparate? Oh, god, Queenie, what if-"

     "Stop! Don't think like that, Teenie, it's - we can't apparate. We'll definitely lose a limb now. Let's - we'll take the Floor, then. We need to get him inside somewhere. Somewhere with a fireplace."

     Tina knelt down, eyes level with Newts, which were closed and still. She glanced nervously up and down the alleyway, eyes blinking furiously. "It's another block to get him back to the apartment from here. A No-Maj might see, and they might try and do something - we don't know what's wrong with him, Queenie. It could be anything."

     Queenie mimicked her sister, kneeling down at the mans side. She pushed an orange flop of hair off of his forehead. "Oh, he's warm, I think his fever's come back-"

     "Do you really think that's what made him faint? After everything he went through in the subway?" Tina fought to keep her voice low, but couldn't help letting a small wail slip out the last few words. "We need to get him to St. Jouge's. Now."

     A rather pained expression crossed over Queenie's face. "He was terrified, Teenie. It was awful. I don't know - what if he wakes up and as some kind of attack? It happens, you know, Tina, it does."

     "Can you focus Queenie? We need a fireplace. We're taking him to St. Jouge's, and I don't care if you have anything else to say about it." She winced at the harshness in her voice, and tried to distract her eyes with concern for Newt. "We can't help him now, we don't know what's wrong. Where's the closest fireplace, Queenie?"

     Queenie stood, pale strawberry heels clicking uniformly along the ground. She peeked out the of alleyway, glancing left and right in what was meant to be a casual stance. She turned back round to Tina with a grimace. "Jacobs bakery - do you remember what it was, before he opened his business there?"

     Confused, Tina looked up at her sister, grasping at words while also trying to shake Newt awake. "It - wasn't it that old bookshop? That old crow worked there - what had her name been? Something Lovegood, she was a strange one - why?"

     Queenie looked back out at the street. The crowds around Jacobs bakery were beginning to draw away as the sun left the midday sky. It was no longer lunch, and the majority of the crowds began to move back to work. "There was a fireplace, a big open baking oven behind him - you think it would still be connected?"

     "I," Tina shook her head, glancing down self-consciously. "I feel like I should know - but I don't. We could surely try." Tina swallowed, setting her shoulders back in an effort to look calmer than she felt. "Go back in, tell Jacob to close it up, just for five minutes. Tell him we'll be in and out, fast, got it, Queenie?"

     The opposing Goldstein sister didn't have bother responding. The moment she able to discern the trail of thought from Tina's mind, she had already whisked around the alley's corner, pink trench coat swishing widely behind her. Tina turned back to Newt, trying not to let the worry take over her gaze.

     "Newt?" She whispered. Tina was fighting determinedly to keep her voice steady. Newts face was falling slightly, sliding down the back of the wall. His shoulders were slumped over and palms left facing upwards, slender fingers completely stilled. "Newt - can you hear me?"

     Newts body showed absolutely no sign of response or recognition in Tina's words. She glanced up and down the alley once again, ignoring the occasional glances from No-Maj passerbys, hand clutched tightly onto Newts good arm.

     A few minutes passed, Tina continuing to try and awaken the unconscious man until someone came spilling around the alley corner. Jacob Kowlaski nearly ran into the brick walls himself as he wheeled around the corner. He wore only a shirt and vest despite the cold, and his black hair was spilling off to the side. His eyebrows jumped up at the site of Newt and Tina on the ground.

     "Oh jeez, Tina, what's wrong with-?"

     Tina stood up at the sight of Jacob, a fierceness lighting up her eyes. "We need to get him into the bakery. Help me?"

     Jacob nodded, eyes still filled with bewilderment, reaching down to grab Newts other arm. Tina reached out over him, fingers blocking his gingerly. "Be careful, his wrist is broken, Jacob."

     Jacobs eyebrows wrinkled as he grabbed onto Newts shoulder instead. "Jeez, what's this guy been through since I last saw him? It's only been a couple o' days."

     Tina grabbed onto Newts other arm, and as the two friends exchanged glances, they heaved Newt up off the ground in the same instead. He was surprisingly light, at least to Tina, who certainly did not consider herself particularly strong. Jacob found little trouble in the task after owning and managing his own bakery, and the two began to stagger out of the alleyway. Newts boots dragged across the ground, and Jacob hoisted him up off the ground slightly. His chin dropped down, hitting onto his chest slightly, ginger hair flopping down.

     "You got him alright, Teen?" Jacob grunted, as the two stepped out of the alley and began to make their day down the sidewalk. Immediately crowds parted at the sight of them, concerned No-Majs staring with wide eyes and opened mouths. There were murmurs and questions, but otherwise, the three of them were able to maneuver Newts limp body back down the sidewalk, until the three stood in front of the Kowalski Bakery.

     At their arrival, the door swung quickly open, Queenie stepping out to hold the door for them. "Come on in, then - this will only be a minute, Jacob, I promise."

     "No problem," Jacob huffed as the three of them moved out of the snow and back inside. The bakery was quite warm inside, but now empty and silent. There were no other workers occupying the space behind the counter, and the semi-permanent open sign had been flipped to a close.

     Queenie led the troop of three back behind the counter with a gesture of the hand. "Fireplace is back here. It's been modified quite a bit, but we can still try." Tina gave her a pained glance as the three of them squeezed Newt back behind the counter, Jacob trying steadily to not allow Newts body to knock into the glass paneling. "I'm really sorry about this, Jacob. I promise to make up for it later, alright, sugar?"

     Tina slid an arm around Newts back, nodding at Jacob that he could let go. He stepped away carefully, eyes full of concern. "No, no, it's not a problem. Is he gonna be alright? I'd hate to think - I mean, do we know what his problem is?"

     The two Goldstein sisters stepped before the fire. Warm air flared out from the hot oven, which had been renovated into a unique combination of baking oven and warm fireplace. Queenie had never seen a No-Maj invention so insightful - but it was hardly time for questions. She grabbed carefully onto Newts other side, exchanging a look with Tina. "No, we don't - we're going to go to St. Jouge's now. If you don't hear from us, come by the apartment."

     Tina and Queenie stepped partially into the fire, Newt between them. Immediately the flames began to glow emerald green, and Jacobs eyes widened in shock. "What if you guys aren't back to the apartment by then?" He tried calling to them in the fire, but the moment his words out, Tina had already exclaimed something loudly, and with a sudden burst of flame - the three of them disappeared.

_____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____

     When Tina, Queenie, and Jacob arrived, St. Jouge's was bustling with midday activity. Healers, in forest green, clean robes were bustling to and fro in the hallways, apparating quickly from room to room. The white walls and linoleum floors echoed around the hurried clicking of heels on the floor, the squeaking of cots as they were magically transported from hall to hall. Brass chained elevators moved up, down, left, and right at the end of the visible hallways, wide, filled with patients and healers of many different sorts.

     "Help!" Queenie let out a panicked call as the three of them stepped out of the tall, green fireplace, ignoring the few patients and other wizards alike that were pushing past them, either to step away from the fire or to entire it. 

     A small team of Healers bustled forward, dark robes swinging out behind them. A small cot appeared beside the three in half an instant, and suddenly Newts weight disappeared off of Tina and Queenie's shoulders, his body floating off the ground and onto the cot. A healer appeared before Tina, clipboard in hand. "What's his name?"

     "Newt Scamander."

     A quill began scribbling quickly on the board, as the cot holding Newts limp body began to lead two healers down the hall. Queenie followed them, nodding reassuringly at Tina, who faced the healer. His voice was equally vapid and monotonous, his quill continuing to scribble despite the lack of conversation.

     "And the reason for your visit then?"

     Tina grasped and fumbled at some idea of what to say. "Oh - we were involved with the incident a few days back, with MACUSA. He was injured fairly severely in the fight, but Queenie - my sister- and I, we had things under control." She swallowed nervously, watching the quill continue to scribble with fearful eyes. "Today, we got him out of the house. He was walking well and seemed fairly awake, but - he passed out in the street. We don't know what's wrong."

     The healer appeared slightly more interested now. His thick blonde eyebrow perked up at the phrase MACUSA, and the quill began to scribble much faster, scratching aggressively down on the paper. "How extensive were his injuries?"

     Biting her lip, Tina glanced up at the ceiling, trying to remember exactly despite the racing of her thoughts. "Um, he - has a broken wrist. The left one. And his ribs were damaged - we didn't know how bad, so we gave him some skelegro..." Her voice trailed off hesitantly, knowing fully well that any hospital official would rather have had Tina bring Newt in than treat him herself. "And had had a fairly large gash on the left side of his chest. I stitched it up myself - I'm an Auror, sir, I have some experience in the field."

     The man was clearly more interested now, and his quill paused as he looked at Tina curiously. "So you were treating his injuries well enough yourself - why didn't you just bring him in? By this time he would have been well healed already."

     A shadow of doubt cast over Tina's eyes and she found herself hesitating slightly before saying anything that might embarrass Newt, health be damned. "Well, Mr. Scamander - Newt, that is, he kept objecting. He didn't say why... he's an awful shy fellow, very nervous, and somehow... courageous." Tina shook her head lightly, losing her trail of speech. "He objected so strongly, was all. It upset him too much, it seemed like it would harm him more bringing him here than anything. But clearly there's something that we're missing, something Queenie and I missed."

     Tina sighed tiredly as the healer tucked the clipboard underneath his arm, quill flying back into his pocket. "Thank you, miss. If you could follow me then, we will join Mr. Scamander down the hall."

     Nodding, Tina followed the tall, scruffy haired man, glad to no longer be under his scrutinizing gaze. There was a slight limp in his step as he shuffled past small groups of people scattered about, narrowly dodging being hit square on with a floating cot. The two of them stopped at the end of the well lit hallway. All of the window curtains were pulled open, and snowy white light made the walls practically gleam.

     Tina glanced around her nervously, no sight of Queenie anywhere. The healer nodded towards the door, its gold handle standing out in comparison to the rest of the hospital. This hallway was far less populated and contained many fewer cots and patients bustling to and fro. Tina glanced at the man, confused. "Is there where Newt will be staying?"

     The man shook his head with a slight chuckle, instead pointing a wrinkled finger up towards the door.

     In gold plating, the door read 'Theseus Scamander - MACUSA Representative.'


	7. Venom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Newt unconscious and being cared for at St. Jouge's, Tina is forced to deal with the last person she had been expecting - Theseus Scamander. But why didn't Newt tell them he worked at the hospital? Is this why he'd been avoiding it the whole time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So glad I got to sit down to write today! Not going to lie, I'm totally writing this while at work - oh well! It's a much needed break, I think.
> 
> I get it, I get it, enough with the cliffhangers, right? Nah. There's no stopping me now!! Anyway - for those who do not know, Theseus Scamander is canonically a very talented Auror who works for the British Ministry, and he helped a great deal in the First World War. My story does follow canon ideas, but you'll notice now that I am taking many liberties with his character.
> 
> Let me know how I did below! As always, thank you all immensely for reading, leaving comments, kudos, bookmarking - this was supposed to be a drabble, but thanks to all of you, it's turned into so much more. Enjoy!!

     As Tina stepped into Theseus Scamanders office, it was not the few ornate decorations, of the plain grey walls, or the strange ticking clock above her head that she noticed first - it was the man standing expectantly on the other side of the desk, and his close resemblance to Newt himself.

     If Tina had been expecting the meeting, perhaps she would have prepared herself for such an interaction. But instead her mouth fell slightly agape at the sight of him. He certainly did not dress like Newt - he wore a tight-fitting navy blue suit, with a badge attached over the right chest, baring the MACUSA emblem. His ginger hair was tightly cropped and styled with what appeared to be slightly too much hair gel. His face, just as Newts, was scattered with freckles, and his lips shared the same endearing pout.

     Except Newt very rarely held such a stern expression on his face, nor would he ever wear a suit as authoritatively or tightly as the man that stood on the other side of the oak desk.

     Tina broke quickly out of her thoughts, stepping forward and offering a hand for the man to shake. "Hello, I'm Porpentina Goldstein. You must be Theseus, then?"

     Surprisingly, the ginger-haired man broke out into a charming smile, swinging forward a hand to shake hers. "Good morning, Porpentina," His accent was noticeably british, but far deeper than Newts, and far more well-used. "My name is Theseus Scamander, I work as an an Auror in the British Ministry of Magic. My assistant out there, Arnold, will direct any MACUSA related patients to me. Have a seat, Ms. Goldstein." He gestured out a freckled hand to the bland chair that sat before him.

     Tina sat in it gratefully, pleasantly surprised at the mans demeanor. Was this truly Newts brother? Tina opened her mouth to being speaking, but Theseus held up a hand first. "Allow me - there are a few questions I must ask first, before we go any further. I imagine that the patient being treated today is not you, then?"

     Tina nodded. "No, I'm perfectly alright. Mr. Scamander-"

     "Are you directly related to the patient at hand, Ms. Goldstein?"

     "Oh - uh, no," Tina sputtered. "Mr. Scamander, I quite think-"

     Theseus shook his head once again, face twisting into that of slightly overbearing comfort. "Relax, Ms. Goldstein, everything is going to be alright. Is this patient a family friend, then?"

     "It's your brother!" Tina nearly spat the words at him, immediately leaning back in her chair, trying to convey apology through her eyes. Theseus did not seem to register her words immediately. "I'm sorry, Mr. Scamander - it's your brother, Newt. Newt Scamander. I'm a close friend of his. He was involved in the incident with MACUSA last week, involving Gellert Grindelwald and the Obscuris. Hadn't you heard?"

     The expression upon Theseus Scamanders face told Tina that he had very plainly not been aware. His mouth turned into a thin line, which contrasted greatly with his eyes, which cast out bewilderment and shock. "I - Ms. Goldstein-"

     "Please," Tina's voice softened slightly. "Call me Tina, Mr. Scamander."

     "I - was not aware, my brother was involved in this incident." In a quick motion, Theseus drew up his soldiers, and his upper lip stiffened, his eyes aurating carelessness. "Are you quite sure that this is Newton Scamander we are speaking of? Not another relative of mine?"

     Tina's eyebrows furrowed at the question. "No, I'm quite sure, Mr. Scamander - may I call you Theseus? Sorry - it is most definitely Newt here, Theseus. Teal blue coat, brown suitcase, floppy orange hair-"

     "Yes, that's enough, Ms. Goldstein," Theseus cut her off abruptly, standing suddenly. He put his back to Tina, hands grasping tightly on the windowsill behind him. Theseus' entire body tightened up dramatically, and Tina could hear him murmuring slightly under his breath. "And - why have you brought - my brother - to St. Jouge's today? Shouldn't he have sailed off somewhere far away by now?" Tina could not ignore the bitterness tugging at the mans voice, and she sunk deeper into the chair.

      "He was very severely injured while battling with Grindelwald-"

     Theseus turned around sharply, eyebrows raised. "My brother battled Grindelwald?" There was no sense of true shock, amusement, or even pride in the mans gaze - only reproachfulness.

     Tina nodded quickly. "Oh, yes. I'm sorry, I thought you would know - he was severely injured, his wrist was broken, face quite smashed up, damage to his ribs, and a very large puncture wound in his side, which I stitched up myself."

     Theseus nodded to himself, turning slowly back to the window. His eyes were stale and his thin line of a lip had turned into a disapproving frown. "So why have you brought him here then? Bones reheal. Cuts do the same. Why is he here?" Once again Tina sensed hostility in the mans voice, wishing briefly that it was Queenie here instead of her so that his thoughts could be read.

     "He had collapsed in the street this morning, Th - Mr. Scamander." Tina no longer felt the small waves of charm and friendliness from the man. Only distance and a slight chill. "He'd had a nightmare earlier, and-"

     "You brought my brother here because of a nightmare?" A surprisingly arrogant tone sounded in his words, and Tina raised her eyebrows in surprise. Was this a man truly fit to be an Auror - was this the boy legend she had heard tales about?

     "N-No, Mr. Scamander - he collapsed in the street this morning, and we don't know why. His maladies appeared to be all physical, but now I'm not entirely sure."

     Mr. Scamander nodded slowly again. Though Tina could not see it in the mans eyes, she could feel the burning of anger, like that of incense, in the room. She was suddenly not entirely sure coming to St. Jouge's had been the best idea in the first place. Though Theseus was about to speak, Tina jumped in bravely.

     "Mr. Scamander - I understand that, you and your brother, you have your differences. But - you aren't a healer. You don't... have to, interact with him, if you choose not." She bit the inside of her cheek nervously. "I would quite like to get this information filled out, or whatever is needed, so that I may go an accompany him."

     Theseus whipped around, an almost manic glint piercing his eye. "You're not - his partner, then, are you?"

     The question caused Tinas eyebrows to jump over to her forehead. She shook her head in bewilderment. "Um, no? Mr. Scamander, I'd quite like to-"

     He waved a silencing hand back at her and turned back to the window. Sighing, Theseus glanced down at his hands, then back up, head nodding. "Well, Ms. Goldstein, I believe it is in MACUSA's best interest that this man not be cared for in this hospital. There are a few other options around New York, and I would be more than happy to refer you-"

     "What?" Tina could not help but let her voice turn into that of a squawk. "You want us to go someplace else? Why?"

     He waved another hand, striking a nerve inside of Tina. "That is Ministry business, Mrs. Goldstein." Though his voice was still quite gravelly, quite soothing - it reminded her with a pang of her ex-coworker, Percival Graves - there was still an underlying hostility, a bold animosity that Tina had not at all been prepared for. "But as I was saying, I would be more than happy to refer you elsewhere as long as you can kindly remove yourself from my building."

     "Your building?" Tina questioned him hotly. She pulled her newly reinstated badge out of her coat pocket, and waved it at Theseus briefly. "Mr. Scamander, I myself am an Auror, and I don't recall this being in any type of standard protocol. Newt is an injured wizard, and this is a wizarding hospital. I simply don't see what the problem is."

     The authority in Tinas voice startled Theseus slightly. Though her face appeared wise, she had been mostly friendly upon entering - now her eyes were hardened and brows furrowed in confusion. "Ms. Goldstein, you may be an Auror, but I do not think that this is your location on employment."

     Tina shook her head once again, tiny brown hairs rising on the back off her neck. "Show me, then, where in the protocol it says that you're allowed to refuse an injured patient." She paused slightly, trying to tone down the hostility in her rising voice. "Once again, Mr. Scamander, I understand you and Newt have your differences, but he's hurt - it could be serious, this is Grindelwald we're talking about! Not to sound rude, but you are being entirely too stubborn."

     Theseus clenched his teeth in anger. "You enter my office and accuse me of being stubborn? Are you trying to tell me I have it out for - for Newton, for this man?"

     "He's your brother!" Tina exclaimed. "Surely you've seen him hurt before - he works with magical creatures, for merlins sake, surely you've seen him hurt or sick or tipping the scales on some crazy idea?"

     "Well, clearly he's gone a little too far this time! I am the Auror that was chosen to represent MACUSA at St. Jouge's, Ms. Goldstein, not you. On my authority, I say he must be treated elsewhere." He pushed his fingers down into his desk, fingertips turning red in strain. "Immediately."

     Tinas face was shaking in anger. "He revealed Grindelwalds identity and found a way to obliviate the whole city! He's a hero! And he's hurt - if it was any other man, you would let him stay, wouldn't you?" Tina shook her head, snarl full of disgust. "You're just prejudiced against him. How dare you let your personal problems stand in the way of your brothers health."

     "How dare you accuse me of such a thing!" Theseus' face no longer held the boyish charm it had when Tina entered the office. He looked like a rabid animal - teeth bared, eyes wide, stance on the offensive, leaning forward aggressively. "I demand that you leave now, before I call MACUSA. I doubt they would be very thrilled to hear I have an Auror in here, throwing accusations at me like a chocolate frog-"

     Exasperation tore at Tina. The anger that she had with Theseus boiled deep down inside her - and though her eyes were hard and chin trembling, she fought hard to maintain a calm and steady demeanor as she spoke. "I simply don't understand what's happening here, Mr. Scamander. He is injured. It could be dark magic, he could be - he could be dead as we speak." Tina didn't let her voice shake as the words left her, she simply wouldn't, not in front of this man. "Newt doesn't even know he's here, he's unconscious! And all he does is apologize to us and stutter that he's scared of a hospital-" Tina did not stop, not even to take a breath, not even as the door creaked open behind her.  "There's not trouble with MACUSA, this is personal bias, this is radical nonsense, this-"

     "I don't care about whether or not he's in trouble with MACUSA!" Theseus' growl had grown swiftly into a full blown yell. His words shot straight towards Tina, venom seeping through his words. "This is a government owned hospital, and if I say he must be moved, than he must be moved!"

     "That's savage!" Tina shrieked back, flying to her feet. She leveled her face with that of Theseus', no allowance of fear in her gaze. "That denies human rights-!"

     "He killed our father!" The room fell completely silent. Not a breath left a body - the door that had creaked open behind them stilled, and the figure standing in the doorway gasped in surprise. Neither Tina nor Theseus offered a glance over - Theseus stank of hatred. 

     Tina stepped backwards slightly, eyes ablaze in both shock and bewilderment. "What-?"

     Theseus let out a labored breath, pulling his head up. He settled back down onto the soles of his feet, rolling his neck in what would normally annoy the daylights out of Tina, but now went completely ignored. Theseus gathered the minuscule stack of papers on his desk, moving from behind the dark oak furniture to the door. 

     He turned expectantly towards Tina, who was completely silent, despite her wide open mouth.

     "I believe we are done then, Ms. Goldstein?"

 


	8. Restless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whilst Tina deals with the unpleasant task known as Theseus Scamander, Queenie keeps an eye on Newt as the Healers attempt to find out what's wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel awful that I skipped a day uploading a chapter! Yesterday was just such a mess - you guys know those days, right, when absolutely nothing goes right and everything seems to fall apart? Yeah, that was my yesterday. But today was a new day and I'm making the best of it!
> 
> I am (once again) writing this chapter at work but, don't worry, I am definitely in the writing mood and think I really packed a punch with this one. For anyone panicked about last chapter, no worries, I'll resolve that within a couple of days. I feel pretty bad about all the cliffhangers, so I tried to tone down this chapter a bit - but I don't know how much I can tone things down quite honestly!
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoy, don't forget to bookmark and let me know what you think below!!

     "Excuse me, sir, excuse me-" Queenie narrowly shuffled her way between two robed Healers, who were in a rather loud discussion over the contents of a clipboard. St. Jouge's was absolutely packed. From what Queenie could tell, it contained far more Healers than it did actual patients, but nonetheless she was still quite annoyed as she was forced to shove and wind her way through the masses of people that crowded the pointedly thin hallways.

     For a minute or two she had been right behind the three Healers that were controlling Newts stretcher. They said very little to one another, mostly just walking alongside the cot as a sort of entourage. A young girl cut abruptly in front of Queenie, and she stopped suddenly, the cot disappearing down the right side corner in front of her. The girl quickly moved on, but after that, Queenie was left struggling to follow Newts cot.

     Soon enough, though, as the golden haired witched turned the bland hospital corner, she saw Newt upon his cot, being lifted in the air, and moved through a doorway. Queenie ran over to the door on the leftside of the hall, nodding at the Healer that greeted her vapidly.

     "Are you direct family, miss?"

     "Yes. My name is Queenie Scamander, I'm his wife." The words drifted out of her with ease - it was just so simple to lie when the man had very little more in mind than helping Newt and getting to his lunch break.

     The man nodded, pitch black hair bobbing loftily upon his head. "My name's Robert Armstedge, and the two Healers in there are my team in the making - George and Dorothy. I understand your sister answered some basic questions back in the lobby?"

     Queenies mind flashed quickly back through the events that had transpired in the past few minutes. "Yes," She answered sweetly, masking the concern that lay deep in her voice. "My sister Tina talked to the young man, with the blonde hair?"

     "Alright, well, that's good - that was Arthur, he's our MACUSA Representative's assistant. Right now, though, I'll need some more information about the patient himself. George and Dorothy will begin some basic healing, but I need some more details from you."

     On that note, Robert walked inside the room, Queenie following him, eyes roving around the room. There was a small wooden desk where Robert sat down, an extra chair sitting beside it. The curtains were pulled wide on the tall window that took up nearly the entire right side wall, and the snowy light of midday was falling onto the cot where Newt lay. There were shelves and shelves of labeled and organized supplies stacked neatly on the walls - the two healers, who must have been Dorothy and George, were bustling around from shelf to shelf, gathering supplies.

     Robert gestured down to the chair beside him, and Queenie lowered herself slowly, eyes fixed on Newt as his vest and shirt were gingerly removed.

     Robert seemed to catch the glint of concern in her eye, gathering up a notebook and quill, and laying his steady, calm gaze upon Queenie.

     "Alright, Mrs. Scamander, our patient, Mr. Newt Scamander, how old is he?"

     Queenie's eyes widened ever so slightly, and she glanced over at Newt quickly, in attempts to use Legilimence - but if Newt was a radio channel, there was nothing but white noise. "Ehm - 34." The approximation seemed to bode well with Robert, who scribbled the numbers down quickly.

     "And to what do we owe the pleasure of Mr. Scamander's entrance?"

     Queenie didn't shy away from launching into her full explanation. "Newt - my husband, he was heavily involved in the recent battle with Grindelwald, in the subways beneath the No-Maj town hall. He was pretty heavily injured," She glanced over at the two Healers her who were now closely inspecting the rough stitching on Newts right side. "His left wrist is broken, and we suspect a few ribs too, and possibly his nose. My sister, an auror, stitched up his side there."

     Though the response was to Robert, who scribbled as Queenie spoke, the two healers immediately began shuffling through shelves, a splint floating through the air and attaching itself onto Newts bare arm, from the elbow down to his wrist. 

     Queenie continued to watch the two healers move to and fro, until Robert cleared his throat, interrupting the reading of their incredibly focused thoughts.

     "And why then is your husband unconscious, Mrs. Scamander?"

     Queenie turned back to him sharply. "That's quite why my sister and I brought him in today, Mr..."

     The dark haired man huffed, his eyes kind but nonetheless bored. "Mr. Armstedge."

     Queenie nodded. "My apologies. Mr. Armstedge, we took Newt for a walk down the block, to give him some fresh air. Thought it would be good for him. He seemed alright, we stopped at the bakery for some bread, but on our way back he fainted." Queenie swallowed, trying to give herself some air to both breathe and speak. "His breathing was uneven, and he started sweating quite a bit. We don't know what's wrong with him - Tina, my sister, she's hopeful it's just some human virus, but I quite suspect it's something magical."

     Robert nodded, and though Queenie could easily read his thoughts - he was now more interested, but still quite stale - she couldn't tell exactly what choices he was going to make. "Do you know if your husband has had any previous medical problems?"

     Queenie was once again stumped. Fumbling at her words, she glanced over at Newt again - had he mentioned anything of the sort before?

     "Not that I know of. He's had plenty of physical injuries before - my husband works with magical creatures, for the British Ministry of Magic - but for as long as - as we've been, ehm, married, he's been very healthy."

     Robert visibly ignored Queenie's odd choice in words, pushing them to the side as the nervous demeanor of a concerned wife. He glanced down at his paper, opening his mouth to speak again, but from across the room Dorothy spoke up.

     "Robert?"

     The wizard lifted his quill from the paper, glancing up at Dorothy. "Yes?" His voice was stern and much more lively when talking to his assistants rather than a patient. Queenie was, admittedly, mildly offended that he had not taken more interest in her - most men were stunned or curious upon her appearance, which often led to quite lengthy conversations.

     Dorothy's eyebrows were furrowed as she spoke. "His physical injuries are manageable - his wrist is fractured, which we will have healed by tonight, along with two broken rips and a broken nose," Queenie nodded along as she spoke, ignoring Roberts glance at her. "But the cut - it's incredibly infected. We're going to have to take out these stitches and treat it ourselves."

     Robert nodded along, showing slight confusion as the healer finished speaking. "You don't need my permission, Dorothy."

     The younger healer looked slightly confused at the man, shaking her head lightly. "No, sir, it's not what I meant - I mean, none of these injuries can explain why he passed out. You don't collapse from a fractured wrist, not even from broken ribs - we'll likely have to keep him over night, and perform some reactive tests."

     "Reactive tests?" Queenie's voice echoed the other woman, filled with concerns. But Dorothy shook her head in what was meant to be a calming gesture.

     "It's nothing harmful. We have a store of magical supplies here, and we'll see how he reacts to some of them. They could show us if he was potentially poisoned. But right now, our priority is this gash - more than likely, the infection is caused by something that's still inside of him. A piece of glass, or even just a hair could cause a small reaction."

     Though clearly Queenie wasn't meant to notice it, she noticed the way George glanced up at Dorothy, a hint of warning in his eyes. She delved into his thoughts.

      _I'm so fed up with her lying to the patients - this isn't a small reaction. If there's actually something in there, it's gotta be huge. It's probably just from poor cleaning or something of the sort..._

Queenie straightened her back. "I mean no disrespect at all," Her voice was high and smooth like honey. "But, that wound? It doesn't really look like a small reaction to me. I work with MACUSA - I'm no auror, and I'm no healer, but I've seen injuries just like that cause a panic in my office."

     Dorothy's jaw twitched onto Queenie's scrutinizing gaze, and she avoided eye contact with anyone else, simply glancing down at Newts chest. "Well - I didn't mean to say it, well, didn't matter, of course - we're going to get right on it."

     Flashing her signature smile, Queenie replied, "I'm glad, sugar."

     Robert cleared his throat again, and Queenie turned to face him. "So - we'll keep him in here for the night. You're welcome to stay - we have a family area down by the lobby, big floating sign, hard to miss. You're welcome to come back here whenever you'd like, but if the doorknob is ever red, he's likely not fit to be visited."

     Queenie nodded - this was certainly not her first time in St. Jouge's. Standing up, she sauntered over to the door, ignoring Dorothy's eyes pressing into the back of her head. "Thank you very much."

     Robert tipped his head, turning his eyes back to Newt. "Not at all, Mrs. Scamander."

     Queenie shut the door behind her, and went back out into the hall.

 

 

 

_____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ 

 

     Tinas face was shaking in a white, hot sort of anger - but she fought tirelessly for composure, turning to face Theseus with a steady gaze. With a flick of her hand, the door was shut and locked, the older Scamanders' assistant pushed out of the room and into the hall.

     "We are most certainly not done here, Mr. Scamander."

     Theseus' face dropped and the very faintly hidden anger reappeared once again. "You have absolutely no right to come traipsing in here-"

     "You have absolutely no right to deny a patient." Tinas voice shook, each word a sharpened knife. "I do not care what absurd accusations you pledge in his name, but it is entirely unprofessional and-"

     "You don't get to call them accusations, Ms. Goldstein!" The ginger haired wizards voice shook the room, filling it with violently charged air. "You very clearly no little of my - of that man!" He practically spat the words in her face, and though Tina opened her mouth, ready to fire back, he raised another silencing hand. "I care very little about whether my brother has told you his life story, and I care very little about his treatment. Any other hospital can do exactly what we could do-"

     "He could be dead right now! Don't you care at all? Doesn't family mean a thing to you?" There was no more restraint left in Tina, and she let her voice raise as a thunderous wave. Theseus barely seemed to notice, yelling back just as loud.

     "Clearly family doesn't mean a thing to him! Why should I care whether or not he dies, after everything he's done for me?"

     Tina was filled with absolute outrage, bewilderment, pure confusion. "I just don't understand your thinking here! I don't care what you say he's done - Newt, Newt is a hardworking, talented, brave, and wholeheartedly kind man! What happened in the past is done, it's over, and right now, you need to let him stay. I don't know what's wrong with him, Mr. Scamander, and it could very well be a question of time at this point! Have you no compassion?"

     Theseus seethed visibly as every word left Tinas' mouth. To his right, the doorknob to his office was jiggling slightly, and a few fearful fists knocked on the door. Theseus ignored them completely.

     "Listen here, you stubborn wench! I will give you twenty four hours to see him fit to leave. But if you don't get him out in twenty four hours, I will be summoning MACUSA here. I'm sure they would be more than happy to remove your badge on my word."

     Ignoring his fiery insult, and his unknowingly scourging words, Tina immediately took a deep breath, setting back on her heels. She fought for calm, and a steadiness came over her eyes.

     "Alright, Mr. Scamander. Twenty four hours."

     Theseus pulled open the door with a violent yank, ignoring the nervous assistant who stood outside, motionless. Theseus gestured hotly towards the doors opening.

     "Twenty four hours."


	9. Hopeful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the Healers make progress caring for Newt, Tina shares their grave news with Queenie, who is outraged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everyone! Wow, this has been a crazy busy week - I wanted to issue a quick apology to you guys. This is a plot-hole filled story!! I'm doing my best to resolve everything but I hope that despite all of its problems, you can still enjoy my writing and enjoy the characters. I'm crazy busy outside of this story and can't make time to plot too extensively - but I know you guys are really awesome and understand that. :)
> 
> All of that being said, I am writing this while trying to fight through spasms of intense coughing - this chapter is certainly not my best work, and I'm sorry for that. I promise the next one will be far better, and thanks all for understanding.
> 
> Despite it, I still hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think below! :)

     "Twenty four hours?"

     Tina closed her eyes, trying to push down the frustration that was attempting to envelope her mind. "Twenty four hours."

     "And he thinks he has the authority to do this?"

     "He certainly has more authority than me - he fought in the war, works for both MACUSA and the British Ministry, and I only just got my Aurors badge back two days ago."

     Queenie shook her head hotly. "You know that's not what I'm saying. I'm saying this is wrong, and almost definitely illegal."

     Quite truthfully, the thought hadn't even crossed Tina's mind while she was in there - did he have the authority to enact such a policy, even if he was an Auror? "I don't know, Queenie, I don't know. Where's Newt at? I think we should be thinking about him right now."

     The other Goldstein sister threw a pink-nailed hand back in a distracted gesture. "He's down this hall and to the right, first door on the left. Three healers in there with him - they said they'll be doing some charms and whatnot for a while."

     "Red doorknob policy?"

     Queenie nodded. "Red doorknob policy."

     Tina threw her hands up into her hair, frustration boiling over. "I just - I don't even know what to do right now. What are we even supposed to be doing? Should we be with Newt, or at home-?"

     "You," Queenie interrupted, quick to process Tina's thoughts. "Can go visit Newt. The healers in there, they're quite nice, and he pointed out a nice little waiting area - oh, by the way, Newt and I are married now."

     "What?" Tina's eyes shot up from where they had been planted on the ground.

     Queenie managed a good natured giggle, despite the seriousness of the conversation. "It's nothing, but they wouldn't've let me in unless we were directly related - so I told the man we were married. He bought it well enough - but anyway, Teenie, just, go visit him then go to that room and relax. I feel like going home'll be pointless, too far to hear any quick news."

     Tina nodded slowly, eyes moving past Queenie and down the hall. "Where will you be then?"

     "I think I'll be meeting up with a few men, don't'cha think?"

     Tinas gaze relaxed slightly. "Oh, I forgot - Jacob, right?"

     "Something like that." Tina nodded at her sisters answer.

     "If you need me, Queenie-"

     "I know where I'll find you. See you in a bit, yeah?"

     Tina nodded resolutely. "See you in a bit."

     She started quickly down the hall, leaving her sister standing alone in the lobby. Tina pushed her way awkwardly through the thick crowds of families gathered round the halls. The rooms were blanketed in white - white sheets, white walls, white light coming in from the snow outside. She blinked in response, eyes adjusting quickly as she turned right down the hall.

     The first door on the left had doorknob glowing brightly golden. As she stopped in front of it, she could faintly hear voices speaking inside. With a cautious warning knock, Tina opened the door and stepped inside.

     The first thing that caught her attention was Newt lying, still unconscious, on a large floating cot. Her heart sank as she saw a female healer moving anxiously over his wound, using one hand to remove Tina's messy stitches and the other to wipe up the blood. Another healer stood on Newts other side, writing notes on a floating clipboard and shuffling through the top shelf on a nearby bookcase, filled with strange items.

     To the left of the room, a middle aged looking man with receding black hair sat, tired eyes glancing flavorlessly up at Tina. He put the paper in his hand down, leaning forward slightly over his desk. "May I help you, miss?"

     Tina nodded, black hair bobbing along her ears. "Yes, I'm - uh, Mrs. Scamander's sister. Tina Porpenstein." She offered out a hand over his desk as she stepped forward, and he took it. Even his handshake was weary. 

     "Right. Lucky for you, your sister's answered most of the questions we've been looking at. Did she tell you much anything that I said?"

     Tina shook her head, glancing nervously over at Newt, and sitting quietly in the chair before the man. "Not really, we were both fairly distracted."

     The man nodded. "Fair enough. My name is Robert - those healers are named Dorothy and George." The pace of his voice was far quicker than Tina would have expected, and his boredom seemed to increase as his speech wore on. "We've determined that there is still some kind of object lodged inside of Mr. Scamander here, whether it be a fleck of dirt or something of the sort. That's what would be causing the fainting, fevers, aching, things like that. Getting it out can be a bit tricky, even with our well trained healers, and we'll keep him in overnight to make sure things go well."

     Tina nodded along with his words as he spoke. "What if he wakes up? Won't he be in pain?"

     Though Robert opened his mouth to speak, a voice from behind Tina - it must have been Dorothy, the woman working on Newts stitches - jumped into their conversation. "Right now, we have him under a few spells to keep him asleep. Once we have this wound healed up properly we'll let the spells wear off and he will wake up naturally." Dorothy seemed to sense the worry in Tinas gaze. "Don't worry, miss, he's going to wake up. It's just a matter of making sure he's comfortable enough to do it."

     Tina turned back to Robert, reassured by the other womans words. "Alright - and in the meantime, what can my sister and I do?"

     Robert shrugged nonchalantly. "There is a familial patient area, down this hall to the left. You can both stay there, eat, rest, try and relax. You're welcome in here almost any time. We have a-"

     "Red doorknob policy, I'm aware." Tina stood up with a sigh. She glanced at Newt, eyes full of compassion and warmth towards the man, who lay shirtless on the table, head turned to the left, hair flopping about. His chest hardly rose with each breath - if Tinas eyes had not caught the minuscule movement, it would perhaps look as if the man was dead.

     Tina nodded to the healers, then back at Robert as she moved towards the door. "Thank you, then."

     Dorothy and George murmured a response, and Robert, already back to reading his papers once again, merely nodded. Tina stepped out of the room, and back into the hall. They had twenty four hours to remove that item from Newts chest. A deep, sinking feeling inside of Tina told her that things would get far worse, before they had the chance to get better.

 

_____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____

 

12:00am EST

 

     The door read 'Theseus Scamander' in rich gold plating, standardly and cleanly placed on the door like a badge of honor. In many regards, it was quite pretty, perhaps even elegant, and if Queenie had not already been so angered at that point perhaps she would have respected the name more.

     But instead, standing alone in front of the tall oak door, she knocked thrice, fist steady against the door.

     There was no response.

     "Mr. Scamander?" Queenie's voice echoed down the mostly empty hall. The professional offices were far less popular than the patient wards, and only a few wizards in well fitting business suits walked to and fro, along with the occasional healer. None of them paid much attention to Queenie, and she ignored there thoughts, focused on the task at hand.

     She knocked again, harder this time, letting the sound of her fist to the talking for her. This time there came a response, the voice somewhat weary but nonetheless handsome.

     "Come in."

     Queenie turned the knob on the door and stepped inside, heels clicking sharply on the linoleum floor. The office was very sparsely decorated, and the entire back wall was a window, its curtains and blinds drawn tightly shut. The only light in the room came from a dim lamp sitting upon a great oaken desk. Its warm light illuminated the face of the man sitting down - for the briefest of moments, Queenie thought it was Newt sitting there, shocked at the resemblance.

     But there was no time to think of such things. Queenie shut the door behind her, purse dangling from her opposite hand. A bottle of Scotch sat half-empty upon the mans desk, and he waxed a faux smile onto his face.

     "How may I help you, darling?"

     There was most certainly something charming about him, Queenie noted. Not charming in the way Jacob was. Not the kind, honest way. More in the way that made Queenie the slightest bit uncomfortable, the kind that let her know that this man was not playing some kind of game. He didn't do things for laughs, or out of compassion, he was motivated.

     But Queenie nonetheless offered her most charming smile. "Oh - well, I was wondering if I might have a moment to chat with you, Mr. Scamander."

     The ginger haired wizard lifted up a small glass in his hand, using it to gesture to the chair in front of the desk. "Well certainly, Mrs...?"

     Queenie thought quickly, glancing around the room for some kind of idea. She spied the glass of whiskey on his desk. "Mrs. Schletter."

     "As in - the alcohol?" There was a flirtatiousness in his voice that made it clear to Queenie that fooling this man would be no challenger to her whatsoever.

     She smiled again. "There's no connection I know of - simply coincidence, Mr. Scamander."

     "Please," He smiled at her in return. "Call me Theseus." He poured himself some more of the scotch, twirling the glass around in his hand a bit before taking a small sip. Theseus glanced up at Queenie, as if trying to read her face. "What can I help you with today?"

     "Well, my husbands in today - he's got an awful case of dragon-pox, the poor thing. He works for MACUSA, in the Wand Permit department - I was wondering, what the chances were of MACUSA covering the cost of his healing?"

     Theseus looked Queenie up and down, grey eyes taking in her pink coat, bright golden curls, and pink lipped smile, that she adorned once more as the man observed her. Surprisingly, Queenie was unbothered by his stare - she knew it well, it was similar to the face that she made when she would use her Legilimence. But it didn't worry her - clearly this man had not the intelligence to read another's mind.

     Theseus cleared his throat, and glanced down at his hands. "Well, Mrs. Schletter, that all depends upon circumstance. I understand why you've come to me, but most often in these cases, your husband would have the required information in his employment papers. Perhaps when you're able to be in contact with him again, or possibly you could find them at home...?"

     Queenie nodded thoughtfully along with his words, eyes feigning innocence. "Oh, yes, that makes quite a bit of sense. This is our first visit to St. Jouge's, is all - we've been awfully healthy, bless us."

     "So I've answered your question then."

     Queenie nodded slowly, standing up, and drawing her bag closer to her. "Oh, you've been quite a help, Mr. Scamander." She moved slowly over the door, knowing that words stood, perched on the tip of Theseus' tongue. Queenie moved closer to the door, hand nearly on the golden doorknob.

     "Is there anything else I could help you with, then, Mrs. Schletter?" His flirtatious eyes did not notice Queenie locking the door.

     She turned around quickly, eyes blinking in feigned surprise. "Well, now that you mention it..."

     Theseus leaned forward. His eyes were eager and innocent, and far too alike to Newts. Queenie reached a hand inside her purse.

     "Petrificus totalus!" In a single motion, Queenie had quickly drawn her wand out, and the man was stunned. He sat motionless behind his desk, the only piece of him able to project any kind of emotion being his eyes, which were filled with anger and bewilderment.

     With an aura of calm, Queenie sauntered back over to the chair before Theseus' desk, sitting down gently. She leaned forward, elbows propped up on the hard wood. Her face was mere feet away from his, and she blinked coyly, running a finger through the curls in her hair.

     Without another moments hesitation, Queenie dug into his thoughts.


	10. Memory - Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queenie explores Theseus' complex memory, doing everything she can to find the root of his grudge against his younger brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm kind of embarrassed to say I actually wrote half of this chapter - then lost it. My laptop is pretty old and it shut down on its own. I was hoping AO3 would hold onto it (not that any blame is held! totally on me) but I lost all of it. For any fellow writers out there, you guys know how much it sucks to have to rewrite a chapter, so I'm sorry that it took me an extra day to get this one out. I cut it short a bit because of how busy I was, but I promise it will be well worth it.
> 
> Any-who, I tried to really bring this chapter to life and I hope you all enjoy it! Let me know what you think in the comments below, and remember to bookmark to be notified of future updates.
> 
> That's all from me, I hope you like it! :)

      _In the summer of 1912, Theseus Scamander decided that summer in Ireland was absolutely the best thing in his life. Not that he hadn't enjoyed his time spent in Hogwarts - but as a nineteen year old boy turned to man, there was nothing more exciting than his last few months spent at home. The rolling green hills of Ireland were like an enchantment to his eyes, tall oaken trees, deepened valleys and swirling streams - bitter winds combined with the warm rays of the sun, created an atmosphere that could not be rivaled by anything else._

_His mother was a hippogriff farmer - a unique and rather unfavorable job that kept her at home, and mostly out in the barn all day. His father was a wizard, too, but he tended to a more ordinary vegetable farm. On the weekends, Theseus' father would travel into town, selling his items in the marketplace. During the week he would continue to labour away despite any ill weather._

_Their house, despite the fact that only four people accompanied it, was quite large, and fit well into the valleys of the countryside. Hand placed white brick, gorgeous stone and wood embellishments, and nearly an infinite amount of land to explore filled the summer days with feelings of freedom and adventure. On the weekends, Theseus would accompany his father into the marketplaces. By far, Theseus loved it there more - the community, the smells, the shouting, haggling, speech, the pure business of it, drove him wild, filled his mind with adrenaline and thought. His home was beautiful and Theseus came to love his strange family dearly, but feeling so connected to something absolutely enticed him._

_Of course, there was not very much that he could do about it. Though Theseus tried to ignore the impending fact, soon enough he would be leaving his home. There were rumblings of war echoing around the world, and his dad swore it completely - give it at least five more years and he would be back serving. But Theseus focused on what was in front of him, there and then. He thought of the great cities he vowed he would live in, and how he would be leaving his family behind._

_But those things, Theseus wasn't too interested in thinking of either._

_"Is mum down at the farm?"_

_The voice came from his brother behind him - the words were so soft and familiar, there was no chance of them startling Theseus out of his thoughts as he stared out from the front porch of his house._

_Theseus turned around, ginger hair flopping about slightly in the wind. "I think so - have you seen dad anywhere?"_

_Newt nodded in reply, looking down at his older brother. "He was in the kitchen a little while ago, said he was going to get something from the farm before leaving. Is that why you're still here?"_

_Theseus stood up as he nodded, noting once again the lessening difference in their heights. Newt himself was only fourteen years old, but mere inches away from Theseus - both of them were far taller than their mother, but soon enough Newt would reach the height of their father, too._

_"Yeah, I thought we would have left by now."_

_"Well," Newt shut the wooden door behind him, "Will you come down with me then? Mum said she had a surprise for me."_

_Theseus raised an eyebrow as his younger brother shuffled past him, down the porch, and to the right of their house, following the roughly made dirt and stone path that extended all the way down the valley. Theseus watched his younger brother begin to walk before following him down the path._

_Though there were beautiful green hills that rose over them into a crescent valley, the land behind the house dipped even further down. The way Theseus saw it - logical, taking after his father - was that this would cause little more than flooding and annoyance after the frequent rains. His mother, on the other hand, saw it as a private sanctuary to take care of the hippogriffs, without endangering their existence. Muggles explored the countryside all the time no matter what they did to stop it. Theseus' mother was a rather bright witch, and was able to successfully hide the farm, in its puny size, with complex spells that Theseus was gaining experience at every day._

_He watched his brother walk ahead of him - perhaps they looked exactly the same from the back, despite the way Newt walked. His shoulders were drawn far more inward, his gaze always looking up and around him, in fear or respite or simply wonder at what he was seeing. Theseus walked proudly, with his shoulders back and eyes straight forward. A thought tainted his clear mind - perhaps he would make a good soldier..._

_"So what are you up to today, Newt?" He used the conversation as a distraction, to avoid the impending thoughts of his future, and instead turned the focus to his weary brother._

_Though Newt's voice usually remained at a rather consistent deep murmur, he, as per usual, brightened up at the chance to talk about something that interested him. "Well, I've found this really strange creature, down in the river last night...."_

_Theseus couldn't help but zone out. The sound of his brother talking always calmed him, but he struggled immensely to follow what Newt would say. He was, at least in their fathers words, a peculiar child. He roamed the countryside like any other boy, enjoyed drawing and reading and following his mother around the farm; but, more than all of that, he had an intense and rather peculiar passion for animals. Whether it be the rabbits that hopped through the moor, the grindylow that swam in the nearby lake, or the legends of unicorn running about the local forest. Newt was there, notebook in arm, never afraid to dirty his hands or sustain a bite or two._

_Though his mother only told Theseus in private, she had quite a heavy concern for Newt when the two of them were both in school. Newt was only about to enter his fifth year after the summer, but the other students were not afraid of teasing him. In the world of magic, creatures themselves were not quite unusual. But Newts fascination with them were so grand, so intense, and while Theseus had been in school he had kept a careful watch on anyone that came near Newt._

_"....but it's not the same as a grindylow, and it's much more kinder, actually likes being pet, y'know? Sorry, I didn't mean to go on about it." Newt could sense the lack of presence from Theseus and bit his tongue._

_Theseus spurred back to the present. "Oh- no, Newt, don't apologize, that was my fault." He smiled softly as his brother tried to protest again. "I think you're just a little too smart for me to process, is all. I can't keep up with it."_

_Newt let out a light chuckle. "Whatever you say. What do you think mums surprise is for me, then?"_

_Theseus loved picking apart the bits of excitement sprinkled into his brothers words. "I'm not sure - maybe something about the fair next month?"_

_The words launched Newt into more ramblings about the Hippogriff Fair in Shannon in July, but once again Theseus zoned out. From where the two stood on the path, feet skidding over rocks and dirt, they could see the farm easily. In fact, the two brothers had reached the exact halfway point between the house and the farm. From far away, Theseus thought it looked quite pleasant. Wide open pastures. Waving green grasses. A small wooden hut surrounded by rickety wooden fences. From the distance Theseus was at, the hippogriffs looked quite friendly. Their land was immense - no true limit to their bounding pleasure, their occasional flight. The Scamander boys' mother was a rather talented witch, able to cast unique charms on the sky to keeps the hippogriffs from flying off into the world._

_Some reared on their talons, flinging their wings out to the sky, shooting up then gliding back down to the ground. Foals galloped around one another, brushing through the wavy grasses. Theseus noted how kind they looked, how agreeable they were with one another and the environment. Newt gazed down at them fondly, a twinkle in his eye that Theseus could not see from where he walked, but could most certainly feel._

_Newt tended to spent the majority of his time down on the farm with his mother. Tending to the hippogriffs was not a chore to him, certainly, but a comfortable adventure and pastime that he enjoyed. Perhaps, Theseus noted, that was why Newt and their mother was so incredibly similar._

_"...I just know it'll be a good time, really. D'you think you and dad might come?"_

_Once again, Newts question drew Theseus out of his thoughts. "Oh - I'm not sure. Dad hasn't mentioned anything about it." Deep down, Theseus knew the answer, just like every other year, was a big fat no. Their father didn't hate the hippogriffs, but he hated the fair. It was too much for such a gruff, loud man, but Newt just didn't seem to ever be in the mood to accept the fact._

_But the younger Scamander brother only nodded in reply. "Alright."_

_The two of them drew closer to the farm. As they moved through the paths and grasses that splintered around the property, Theseus glued his eyes down onto the path before him. He could feel the stares of two or three hippogriffs standing stonily behind the fence to his left. Their eagle eyes bore into his skin, and he reveled in how jauntily Newt walked in front of him._

_That was perhaps what separated the two brothers the most - Newt was comfortable where others were not. He drowned in crowds, stuttered in classes, rejected romance, but he had no fear when it came to these creatures. Theseus knew, of course, that the hippogriffs were safe enough, as long as you granted them respect. But he had seen both of his parents injured by their great talons numerous talons. Newt himself had walked away with a broken arm the first time he rode upon one, but nonetheless hadn't been able to shake the grin plastered on his face._

_As Newt reached the front of the small shack that lay in the middle of all the pastures, Theseus once again drew upon his admiration for magic, in particular the talents of his mother. From the outside, it was nothing. The shack looked abandoned, the wood old, broken, and molding, and it appeared to be nothing more than a hut that could only hold one person._

_Newt swung open the door, and two boys entered._


	11. Memory - Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queenie tunes further into Theseus' memories, watching what happened so long ago to create such a divide between the Scamander brothers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I cannot thank everyone enough for your patience with me!! I feel like I've been taking ages to update this past week, and I really appreciate you guys all standing by me nonetheless. I hope I can make it worth it in the end!! 
> 
> Once more, if you enjoy the chapter, let me know down in the comments! Bookmark to stay updated on future chapters, and seriously, I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it. You all mean the world to me! <3
> 
> Happy weekend!

      _When Theseus Scamander entered his first year at Hogwarts, his first ever class had been Charms. The professor at the time - whose name now escaped him, but whose kind, old face still stayed in his memory - had gone around the class and introduced himself warmly. He had been the Charms teacher for a rather long time and spoke about how he planned on retiring a year after. Theseus, at the time, was quite bored by the mans speech. There was so much excitement boiled up inside of him about magic and finally going to Hogwarts, but he had no attention span for the mans lecture, and found himself staring out the window that overlooked the Hogwarts grounds. The beauty of the land made him question how much he already missed home. After all, Hogwarts had the familiar rolling, green hills, a nearby forest, and a massive lake - what more could Theseus ask for? The sky was bright blue and the morning sun peeked through the classroom, its bright light blanketing the students in their seats._

_A soft question, not aimed particularly at Theseus, but all of the children as a whole, pulled him out of his thoughts. "What, might I ask, is your favorite part about magic?"_

_The professor was, in particular, asking a girl in the front row, who looked aggressively vapid and whose eyes stared glumly forward. Her black hair was dull and limp, and her dark eyes were tired in the bright morning. She looked up at the professor before him, ignoring the soft murmuring answers of other more eager students behind her._

_The professors eyes twinkled slightly, and he smiled down at the girl. "That's alright - it's your first day. We might not all have a favorite, am I right, miss...?"_

_"Miss Rosier." Theseus' eyebrows wrinkled at the coldness in her voice. Sure, Theseus was a smidge bored, but he was not like this girl - this girl sounded as if she could not care less at all. Theseus sat up straighter, trying to appear more eager._

_The professor looked up at the other students sitting behind and around her, peering from face to face. "How about you all, then - what is your favorite piece of magic that you've come to know? Of course, there is so, so much more for you all to discover, and you'll find that out very soon. But right now, what do you just love about magic?"_

_Several nervous hands raised up into the air. He pointed at a young, blonde haired girl. "My mum uses magic to clean. It's fun to watch - the brooms and mops turn into animals, kind of."_

_"That's a wonderful piece of magic!" The professor exclaimed, raising his hands into the air excitedly. "Magic is incredibly useful, right? Cleaning would be far more tedious without it. How about you?"_

_The professor pointed to a boy with black, cropped hair and bold eyes. "Flying - on broomsticks. That's definitely the coolest part of magic."_

_Chuckling, the professor replied, "I'll bet you take a liking to quidditch, then? Not surprising at all - magic is a great supplier of entertainment, not to mention transportation. Why, if it weren't for my trusty broomstick, I would have no way to get to Honeydukes for all the sweets I need!"_

_There were some giggles at the professors response. Theseus felt rejuvenated - what was his favorite part about magic? A warmth washed over him as memories flooded through his brain. He felt encouraged, invigorated. Slight adrenaline rolling through his veins, he raised an unsteady hand, catching the professors eye immediately._

_"And you, young man! What might be your favorite part about magic?"_

_Theseus took in a breath. "Well - my mum, she's a hippogriff farmer. And the barn - I dunno what she does, really, but on the outside, it's just an old barn. But on the inside, it's huge!"_

_Several students turned to look at him, eyes widened in wonder, others in resentment. The professors, however, was filled with joy. "Oh, yes! Just wait, my dear lad, give it a few years and you'll be able to perform charms and spells that can do just that! Your mother sounds like a very talented witch, to be able to keep that spell up all the time. What's your name then?"_

_"Theseus Scamander." He allowed a shy grin to shape his lips as he answered the professor._

_"Well, Scamander, if that's your favorite part of magic, then you'll have an excellent time here in charms!"_

_Though the conversation, at that point, ended, and the professor preceded to talk on about textbooks and schedules, the moment never really left Theseus' mind all through school._

_By his seventh year at Hogwarts, as a prefect and wonderfully successful student, Theseus could practice magic incredibly well. He was praised by his teachers, shown off by his parents, and offered many opportunities as a future career, most of them stemming from the British Ministry of Magic. This, of course, delighted the young man - but what he remembered on top of all of those wonderful things was what he said on the first day._

_His mothers magic continued to astound him, even when we himself could do the same charms for the same reasons._

 

_Newt led the way into the farmhouse, Theseus trailing slightly behind him. He glanced back around at the land around him, taking in the smell of hippogriff and pleasant wind. It would be a good day in the market, despite the gray sky. There was no taste of rain in the air. Instead there was a warm pleasantry, a kind softness that filled his veins with joy._

_"Mum?" Newts voice echoed out into the large expanse of area before him. What amazed Theseus so much about the witches magic was the sheer amount of detail she was able to fill the spacial cavity with, the many great features she was able to organize insightfully inside without making a single mistake, without even the smallest of grievances._

_"Here." A voice answered from back around a large wooden wall, and Newt went scampering away, boots scuffing on the floor. Theseus shut the main door behind him, eyes taking in the sights around him. Despite his immense love for the building, he truthfully spent very little time inside. Why that was, he did not know exactly - the smell was not entirely unpleasant, and it was quite warm no matter what the season. His mother was quiet, thoughtful company, and there was never a pressure to speak if there was nothing to speak about._

_Nonetheless it always seemed to be Newt who spent hours and hours in the farm, not Theseus. He recognized its beauty though upon sight._

_The floors were not at all rickety as one might expect, but were instead clean and golden blonde, always well polished and full of luster. The walls were made of much darker pine wood, and the light came from magical bulbs that hung upon wooden post. Theseus' mother would illuminate them with a strange device every morning, then extract the light in the evening when she returned to the house._

_Straight forward from where Theseus stood at the main door were several rooms. One of them was a sort of office, though his mother was certainly not the office type. It mostly just held magical grants and paperwork that granted permissions and pedigrees for the creatures that she kept. Occasionally she would harbour a creature with questionable legality, but the family never discussed it, and more than likely she would soon verify its existence and pass the expected permissions. Theseus' mother did not enjoy breaking the law, even for the sake of her animals._

_To the left and right were short, sturdy stables, constructed with the same pine wood that paneled the walls. The hippogriffs were very rarely kept inside. They were quite versatile, able to handle the hottest summer day, the rainiest fall, and the coldest snow without suffering. But, and Theseus had watched his mother care for the creatures during such incidents, if the hippogriffs were to fall ill or be injured or were ready to birth, they would be brought carefully inside and set under her watchful eye. Theseus' mother seemed to prefer the creatures this way, but she very clearly enjoyed what she did nonetheless._

_Theseus took a few steps forward. The stables were all empty, and the barn mostly silent. He followed the path that Newt had taken into their mothers office - behind the room, though, were several other areas that held barrels of food, supplies, and other items for the hippogriffs._

_As Theseus stepped through the office, careful not to disturb the gingerly stacked piles of paper, he could hear voices and the movement of barrels._

_"So - you said you had a surprise for me mum?" Theseus stepped quietly into the room, watching Newt push a massive barrel full of water to one wall, following his mother as she did the same._

_A small smile graced her face, ignoring the long tangles of red hair that fell around her freckled face. The resemblance of the Scamander brothers to their mother was uncanny - they had the same nose and eyes, and the two of them carried on her freckles and bright red hair. Their father passed down general face shape and attitude, and certainly more to Theseus than Newt._

_"I do, but you have to help me out first, okay?"_

_Newt grunted in response, continuing to push the barrel along. Their mother turned to look at Theseus, as he leaned on the wooden doorway, a fond look in his eye as he watched his brother and mother work. "Have you seen dad anywhere? We were supposed to leave a little while ago I'm pretty sure."_

_The ginger witch finished pushing along the barrel and nodded. "He's out back, behind the wood piles. He had wanted some rope, if I remember right."_

_Theseus nodded, mind flashing back to when they had walked down. Under normal circumstances, he and Newt would have spotted their father behind the shack. But in the middle of the summer, the Scamander family used both magic and labour to stock up on wood from the nearby forests. It was never too early, especially in Ireland, where the cold could come by unexpectedly when autumn arrived._

_“Are you going to help us then?”_

_In any other circumstance, Theseus knew Newt would never display such excitement in his voice, nor showcase such eagerness in his eyes. But being in the barn with his mother gave him a fresh wave of euphoria, and seeing him so happy delighted the older Scamander brother._

_“I think I’ll go find dad,” Theseus chuckled, unfolding his arms. “But I was looking forward to finding out what this surprise was, Newt was telling me on our way down.”_

_Their mother glanced at Newt with a smile, who had a light tinge of pink along his cheekbones. "Alright, I suppose now's a well enough time - it's not a thing, nothing I can give you, but, I've been doing some thinking - and I've decided to let you start taking care of more business here."_

_Both of the Scamander brothers wrinkled their eyebrows in confusion, Newt looking at his mom with a curious expression on his face. "The surprise is - chores?" There was no true disdain in his voice. The Scamander family knew well enough that Newt would spend all of his time down at the farm if he very well could._

_Their mother laughed. "No, no, not like that. But I thought maybe you'd like to be my business partner in this, instead of just a farmhand. You would help me with so much more, and it would give you all kinds of experience. I know it's not too exciting, just-"_

_Newt slammed into his mother with a tight hug, her face pressed into his cheek. "Yes," He breathed out in excitement. "That would be amazing."_

_Theseus smiled at the two as they embraced, shaking his head. "I thought the surprise would be more exciting! Some crazy creature, or a new hippogriff, something big and tangible."_

_His younger brother rolled his eyes as he pulled away from his mother. "Trust me, Thes. This is a lot better than all of that." He glanced down at his shoes as the words rolled over his tongue. "Erm, perhaps not too much better - it's vey good, is what I mean."_

_"I'm just kidding with you. I'm happy that you'll be out of my hair!" Theseus shifted off of the doorway and cast a hand out to the main door behind the office. "I'm going to head out to see dad, then."_

_His mother nodded in response, Newt disappearing into the next door room to start heaving the next barrel. "Alright. Let me know when you're both leaving, yes?"_

_Theseus began walking out of the room, feet winding along the oaken floors, out of the precariously organized office and back to the main room. "I will."_

_There was no answer after that. Without another moments hesitation, Theseus stepped out of the barn and back outside._


	12. Memory - Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queenie explores the details intertwined in Theseus' memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! I feel like every time I post a new chapter I have to issue another apology - I've gotten so bad with uploading! Hopefully everyone else is just as busy as me right now. I have so many projects going on, so many plans to make, a Christmas party to make happen - it piles up fast! But I still love writing this, it's just finding the time and motivation at this point.
> 
> Despite all of that, I really hope that you're enjoying the writing so far. There's just going to be one more installation of Theseus' memory and then we'll be back to story, I promise. Sorry I've been drawing it out, I just couldn't fit everything is all.
> 
> Let me know what you think of the chapter below, and don't forget to bookmark for more! Thank you all, happy holidays!

_ "Dad?" Theseus' voice cut through the slow silence of the pasture outside. There came the rather occasional and fairly frequent squawk of a hippogriff, the grunt of an adult in response to the piercing call of a young foal, but otherwise the pasture was fairly silent. He could faintly here the sound of his father shuffling around stacks of wood from behind the pile - why Theseus had not heard the noise before, he did not know. _

      _His father didn't even bother to grunt a reply, but Theseus never held the mans silence against him. Most of the time, he was much more the talkative type. Or, if Newt was perhaps describing him, more so the man was more the argumentative type. He was insistent, and stubborn, rather black in contrast to the white of their mother on all topics to be discussed. They hardly ever managed to agree on things, but it never seemed to come in the way of their marriage._

      _There were the small things that Theseus was left to think about as he began to leave home. Why things seemed to work so well, the mechanics behind it. The ginger haired wizard rounded the massive stack of logs, damp and dark with the recent rains, and piled well higher and even as wide as the shack itself. His father held a stack of black logs in his arms, dropping them into the massive wheelbarrow, which was already halfway full._

      _"Oh - hullo, Theseus. A hand?" Just his fathers rigid motion towards him was enough to spur Theseus into action. He stepped towards the wheelbarrow, his father stopping him in place._

      _"No, wood." He threw a thumb over his shoulder, pointing at the giant metal wheelbarrow. It was a dark, rusting silver, and its points were severely sharp, and the weight of the thing was immense. "It's a damn deathtrap."_

      _Theseus nodded. He had expected as much, and regarded the wheelbarrow with cautious eyes. Most often when his mother used it she would pull it by magic or allow a hippogriff to do the brunt of the pulling. Theseus faced the massive pile of wooden logs, taking a few off the stack that his father already started._

      _This was another thing he thought about quite often, and for the most part it greatly coincided with this thoughts about the marriage between his mother and father. His mother was pureblood, and to her magic was an absolute necessity. It was the framework of her existence, a culmination of her love for the unknown and pure, unadulterated talent. She used it endlessly, in cooking, cleaning, gardening, parenting, and most importantly, managing the farm. Everything was founded on magic - it was unusual to walk into a room and see her doing a job physically, unless there was steady reason for it._

      _Theseus picked up four logs, as many as his body could handle, and twisted around. His boots scuffed through the mud that gathered endlessly behind the shack, handing off the logs to his father, who was standing in front of the wheelbarrow, body squared against it. He nodded a thanks as Theseus walked back over to the pile._

      _On the other hand, his father tended to lean towards quite the opposite. Both of his parents had been muggles, and finding about the magic that raced through his blood had been quite the surprise. Yet it was because of how physically and strictly he was raised that Theseus had a taste of both types of childhood, magical and nonmagical. This mades things particularly easy when Theseus and his father attended the markets on the weekend - there was most certainly a wizarding presence in Ireland, but parading it around the markets was looked_   _at to be a rather dangerous affair. Nevertheless, Theseus could find appreciation in his parents' teachings, and he knew Newt must, too._

_"What's all this for?" Theseus let out a huff as he dropped another small pile of logs into his fathers arms, who dropped them into the wheelbarrow. He wiped a layer of glistening sweat off his forehead with a calloused hand._

_"Well," Theseus' father began. "I was thinking, maybe you and I would like to stay overnight in the village? We would have to bring our own supplies, and much more to sell for tomorrow morning, but I thought the trip would be well worth it."_

_Theseus' eyes lit up brightly. "Yes! Oh, that sounds amazing - we're going to do so well today, it's going to be great-"_

_His father interrupted with a chuckle, gesturing to the wheelbarrow behind him. Somehow, he had a funny way of laughing without even smiling - his bushy eyebrows were always tense, and his mouth usually stuck in a frown. But Theseus knew how to pick out the emotion in his voice._

_"Then do me a favor, go let your mother and brother know that we're going to be gone an extra day."_

_Theseus nodded, eyes flickering to the wood pile. "Don't you need more help?"_

_"No," His father waved him away gruffly. "Just let them know so we can leave soon. It'll be good to get out of her fast."_

_Nodding meekly at his fathers words, Theseus turned and walked back around the woodpile. As his feet just barely stepped around the muddy grass, he crashed abrubtly into Newt, sending them both stumbling back into themselves._

_"Oh - sorry." Newt blinked rapidly. "I was coming out to ask for a hand."_

_Theseus smiled despite the small bruise that would likely appear above his eyebrow. "It's fine. Yeah, I need to talk to you and mum anyway."_

_As the two Scamander brothers adjusted themselves, Newt peered at the woodpile. "Is he out here?"_

_And this was one of the other things that Theseus often pondered. Newt never grew close to his father, and most often regarded him with a distanced respect. There was certainly no real fear or distress, just an uneasy kind of silence that settled neatly between the two. Newt opened up around no one but his mother and brother, but the distance could more be felt between the youngest and older in the Scamander family._

_But Theseus nodded. "That's what I wanted to tell you both about - Dad and I are going to be spending the night in the market tonight, that's why we're bringing extra wood."_

_Newt raised his eyebrows. "Oh, alright." There was a brief moment of silence between them, then Newt shuffled his feet. "So, I do need that favor then..."_

_"Sorry, right, let's head in-"_

_Newt bit his lip, clearly at a point of contradiction in his mind. He had a particular way of showing his heart on his sleeve no matter what the circumstance would be. "Well, um, I know you aren't as experienced with the hippogriffs as I am- don't worry, Thes, I know what you're probably thinking. I just need a bit of help moving Peter from the one pasture to another."_

_Immediately a dozen questions crossed Theseus' mind, as Newt began to walk back away from the wood pile and towards the pastures. "Firstly - who is Peter? And, not that I'm not, ehm, happy to help you, but - you seem to be fairly competent on your own, from what I heard from mum-"_

_      "Peter is our largest stallion - we keep him in the outer pasture during the winter and spring, but now that it's June, we'd like to move him into the larger pasture with the females for mating." _

_      Theseus winced a little bit at the words. "Mating?" There was rockhard uncertainty in his voice. The two Scamander brothers neared the closest fence, that created the border for the outer pasture. It was shaped almost like a massive lima bean, that stretched around the barn, bordering the hills, and inbetween the two pastures was a wide pathway. _

_      Newt shook his head, leaning back on the fence. He looked more relaxed than ever on the farm. "Don't worry, we're just moving him, Thes." A giggle escaped his throat, warm and bubbling. "But he's our largest stallion, and he's quite a piece of work. Even mum has trouble with him sometimes, he's just a little bit on the wild side is all." _

_      Theseus tried to keep the whine from entering his voice. "Why doesn't mum come out and you two can do it together?" _

_      "She's down in the basement," Newt replied calmly. "We finished moving the barrels, but it's a mess down there, you should see it-" _

_       Nose wrinkling, Theseus shook his head at the thought of the musty basement, filled with all kinds of creatures kept as food for the hippogriffs. "Alright, alright - I get it. I'll help." _

_      Immediately Newt brightened up at his brothers words. "Excellent." He grabbed the fraying lead hung around the massive fence post behind him, and started towards the gate. "This shouldn't take too long, we just have to be, y'know, careful really." _

_      Theseus nodded, following his brother down the dusty path. It wound carefully around the outer pasture, and lead up to the gate that stood as its entrance. Several hippogriffs were out romping through the field, but they were far enough away that they did little more than glance up at the too. They were clearly highly intelligent creatures - from far away, Theseus could practically feel the recognition in their gaze as Newt walked confidently before them. _

_      "Alright, well, first things first," Newt started as the two approached the gate. Once more there were no hippogriffs quite nearby, but the sight of Newt was drawing them slowly closer. A few golden pelted to their right, and some smaller navy blue ones to their left. Newt felt rathe comfortable, but Theseus on the other hand felt quite surrounded. "We - and I know you know this, Thes - need to find Peter and show him respect." _

_      A vague memory flashed through Theseus' mind. A warning on what could happen if he wasn't properly respectful. _

_      Newt swung open the gate, metal hinges squeaking as it hung inward, pushing through the tall wispy grasses. He nodded to Theseus, who stepped inside, already nervous in the new atmosphere. There was only a foots difference from standing inside and outside the fences, but the wooden rails acted as a protection. Theseus felt too exposed, too out of the woods. _

_      Newt was a natural, and immediately shut the gate and began to march out into the field, Theseus following behind him. Within minutes of walking - which showed just how massive the field was, filled with the occasional tree or little pond - Newt had located the brilliant golden beast grazing alone on the outskirts of the pasture, great wings collected within themselves, eyes scanning the two Scamander brothers as they approached. _

_      "That's him?" Theseus knew well the answer but the worlds still spilled out as a hushed whisper nonetheless. _

_      Newt nodded, eyes locked onto the creature. His skinny body was already bent slightly in respect, a half-hearted bow even thought there was still a few meters left between the few of them. _

_Theseus tried to copy his brothers movements, feet shuffling awkwardly through the grass. "I'll go first," Newt whispered, his voice so hushed that Theseus could hardly hear it._

_      Moving forward slowly, Newt bent his body into a low and gentle bow. The hippogriff drew out his wings, golden and brilliant, jewels glinting dramatically in the sun, flickering and dazzling and hanging onto every speck of light that hung down from the sky. His beak stuck up into the air gravely, massive eyes flickering, amber spheres that reflected an image of Newt bending into the grass before him. His right talons ripped through the grass in the ground, dirt flying up behind him. The great tail of a lion whipped on his hind end and he stared down at Newt with warm eyes. _

_      "Hullo, Peter." _

_      Peter paused slightly at Newts voice, and the silence passed through Theseus in nervous heartbeats. In normal circumstances, he wouldn't have a doubt in his mind that these hippogriffs respected Newt. Now, though, watching it happen, a front seat view of the situation - blood pounded in his ears. This, to Theseus, was true terror. _

_      But as the moment passed, Peter's body let go of its stiff composure, and he bounced forward to Newt slightly. In the blink of his feather-surrounded eyes, Peters attitude had turned from greatly severe to almost playful, a relaxed composure that reflected off of Newt like a mirror. _

_      "Come on forward, Theseus." His words cut through bravely. "You know what to do." _

_      And the older Theseus brother did, but the knowledge could not stop his body from shaking as he moved forward towards the great creature. He sank his chest deep into the grass, coming to stand behind his brother, eyes squeezed tight in fear. Peter regarded him quite nonchalantly; he could practically feel the waves falling off of him, respect and understanding in the air. _

_      Peter whined again slightly, the endings of the noise turning into a squawk. Theseus' body shook in surprise at the sound, and his eyes flashed open in shock. Of course he respected creature, in his mind there was absolutely no doubt about it. But none of that could calm the fear, the suspense bound tightly within him like the web of a spider. _

_      As Theseus bent his body upright, he watched as Newt tied the rope gently in a sort of lasso. Peter's eyes flickered between the brothers, his head turning like that of a chicken as he watched Theseus' eyes. With a single, fluid throwing motion from Newt, the lasso was around Peter's neck in an instant, then pulled snuggly around his brilliant golden feathers. _

_      Newt turned to Theseus, a smile painted onto his face. "Ready to take him over then?" _

_      Theseus nodded, making way for the great beast, as the three started once again towards the gate. _

 


	13. Holiday Update!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a small update - more explained below.

Hello everyone! Ugh, I honestly feel terrible writing this out right now - I think maybe I knew I was going to have to say it at some point, but right now it feels just really crappy actually sitting down and saying this.

I'm taking a break!! I know. It's awful. But before I say anything else, I will PROMISE you that I will be back. Without a doubt. I love writing this so much - I love these characters, this world, and I love every single person that has read this, every person that I've replied to, and I seriously love anyone who has bookmarked and kudo'd! I really hope that nobody doubts that.

But I've been so overwhelmed and uninspired lately! The holidays have me bustling around like c r a z y and on top of that, I just haven't felt motivated to write lately. I know this is completely unfair to all of you, but I do ask for just a bite of empathy in this.

I endlessly appreciate everyone that understands, and I know I haven't upset anyone. I absolutely, positively, most certainly, definitely, will be back - and it wont' be any later than early January, I promise!

Thank you all again for reading, listening to me babble in the notes, and having compassion for another writer who's going crazy trying to stay on top of this.

All the love, warmth, and happiness for the holidays,

Tinq

If you'd like to follow along with my life (or pester me about updating - trust me, I wouldn't get mad) you can follow along at any of these places!

juliabrunsphotography - instagram

iaabruns.wixsite.com/juliabrunsphoto - website

 


	14. Memory - Part IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a long and arduous few hours (chapters), Queenie is able to assemble the truth from Theseus' memories, and makes it her mission to resolve the problems between the two Scamander brothers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am digging myself out of my (admittedly self-dug) hole and actually writing this!! I cannot thank you all enough for the support after my last post - I know what it's like to be an avid reader on A03, and I know that a lot of times when writers go on break they have a tendency of abandoning their writing. But I'm determined not to leave this behind!
> 
> But silly me thought I'd have it wrapped up by the end of December. My busy time is over and I'm back to the regularly scheduled program, which includes me FINALLY reaching the resolution of this fic. I won't say anything too somber yet, though, as I haven't quite reached that point.
> 
> As always, thank you all so much for reading, don't forget to let me know what you think in the comments! Much love!!

      _"So why am I helping you then?"_

_If Theseus was being honest with himself, he would much prefer to be helping his father lug logs to and fro - at least then there was a real solid purpose to his movements, and his father would be more than happy to start a conversation about their upcoming market adventures. But Newt seemed to be determined that Theseus' help was needed. As the two brothers began to approach the gate into the pasture, the stallion began to fidget noticeably. Agitation was growing in his eyes the closer they grew to the exit._

_"This is why," Newt puffed out an answer as the two grew closer. He gestured for Theseus to take a hand, and after a moment of adjustment, both of the brothers were holding tightly onto the rope pulling away at Peter. "He doesn't like leaving - at least, when it's not his choice. It'll only be a minute to get him into the other field, I promise, Thes."_

_But even Newt's words hid notable doubts. Even with both of the brothers pulling on the lead, Peter began to stomp in frustration, feathers very clearly ruffled by the actions. Theseus became acutely aware of how close his head was to the strong hippogriffs' beak._

_Another minute ticked by slowly, and the two approached the gate with noticeable difficulty. Theseus eyed the other hippogriffs apprehensively, but even they spied Peter's turbulence and stepped back, eyes wide and observant._

_"Alright - Thes, can you hold onto him while I get the gate?" Panic swam in Theseus' gaze, and Newt was quick to notice. "I'll be right next to you - and Peter already respects you. He would never hurt you on purpose."_

_Newts words were meant to be comforting, but all Theseus could think of were the two words 'on purpose.' Sure, the stallion had proved the two had some mutual respect, and while Theseus felt more fear than anything else, the great beast could do quite whatever he liked. Once more, Theseus believed he was a good wizard, but surely not a great enough one to stop a full grown hippogriff without bringing any harm or damage._

_But the youngest Scamander brother clearly was not looking for an answer. He wordlessly stepped away from the rope lead, and instantly Theseus could feel the added strain in his arms. He fought to keep his hands on the lead, Peter's eyes wide with frustration, hooves scraping into the dirt and sending grass flying behind him. His wings were fluffing out in hostility, and every muscle was poised in tension._

_Newts hands were fumbling at the gate, and Theseus was biting his lip as he watched, panicked. "Newt, I need-"_

_But as the gate swung open, it was too late. Theseus' hands gave way to Peter's strength, and as the rope ripped painfully out of his hands, Peter galloped quickly forward, sending the gate flying outward. Newt just barely sidestepped the hippogriff's movements, and his eyes flew open in shock._

_Theseus opened his mouth to spill out an apology, but Newt got there first, despite the guilt that was already brimming inside the eldest Scamander. "We need to corner him and grab the rope. He won't run out of the area, thanks to mums borders, but-"_

_Peter let out a loud screech as he plowed down the path. There was no true direction or purpose to his movements other than making a commotion. On strong hooves he galloped down the wide dirt pathway, beating down at the rocky earth as he moved quickly towards the house. Theseus ran out of the field, beginning to chase after Peter's trail, as Newt swung the gate shut with a clang, locking it shut with quick but nonetheless composed hands._

_Newt was able to catch up to his brother quickly, and Theseus could tell from the expression in his eyes that this was not a common occurence. An instinct fell over him - protect Newt before protecting the hippogriff._

_"Shouldn't we just get mum?" As soon as the words left Theseus' mouth he could tell it had been the wrong thing to say. Despite their speed as they shot down the pathway after Peter, Newt was crestfallen._

_He glanced over at Theseus. "I'd rather not. I need to be able to handle this on my own." He shook his head, murmuring to himself, "I need to be able to take one hippogriff to another pasture without chaos breaking loose."_

_Another pang of guilt shot through Theseus, but it wasn't the time to apologize; Peter was now circling around the far side of their mothers shack, and only as he turned the corner out of sight did Theseus remember his dad. His dad!_

_"Dad!" He tried to stretch out his voice to fill the surrounding area, but the wind was blowing straight towards them. Newt continued going forward, while Theseus ducked to the right, heading straight to the other side of the farm house and towards the great stack of wood logs. "Dad!"_

_There was no reply - and for a moment he thought that Peter must have circled back towards the other pasture, and Theseus' heartbeat calmed slightly, blood pumping swiftly in the heat of the panicked moment._

_Until he turned the corner of the log pile._

_He blinked once, and everything was still. He blinked again - and everything seemed to crash down at once._

_Peter, a tornado of golden feathers and sharp beak, came barreling around the corner of the shack, hooves digging deeply into the earth, wings spread outward in a great display of panic and aggression. His amber eyes were wide and he screeched around, feathers and dirt flying to and fro. But there was no stopping at such a great speed, and with a forefront kick of his strong legs, the wheelbarrow full of wooden logs went flying forward. It was a a great mess of wood, feathers, dirt, and blood - blood?_

_Theseus blinked again, eyes finding his father with a gasp of panic. Peter came tumbling forward, legs caught in the end of the wheelbarrow, wings spanning the entire distance of the back area. In a single roll of the giant hippogriff, both his father and the wheelbarrow had gone flying. In the brief moment, there was nothing but a great hurricane of movement, a strengthened earthquake of splinters and sound crashing around about them. Theseus was frozen to his spot beside the log pile, not sure if Peter was going to get up and begin running again. Blood pounded in his ears, and every hair on his body was standing straight up as Newt appeared around the corner of the house, rope grasped readily in hand. The younger brother let out a gasp at the scene before him, heels digging into the ground at the sight._

_A heartbeat passed. And then another._

_Then the loudest screech Theseus had heard in his entire life._

_Peter was on his side - with horror, Theseus could now see why the great stallion had not jumped immediately to his feet and began to run once again. The wheelbarrow, the one that Theseus' father had warned him so gravely about only mere minutes before, was jabbed violently into his side. Already blood was beginning to spill out of the gash, seeping through the once great golden feathers of the beast and dripping down the ground._

_A panicked, lightning-like feeling shot through Theseus as his eyes finally latched onto his father. The great man was caught underneath the hippogriff. Peter was twice the mans size, and was digging his shoulder into the man, whose eyes and mouth were wide in fear - but no sound escaped him._

_"Peter!" Newts voice broke Theseus out of the trance of the moment. He glanced up at his younger brother, who dropped the rope and stumbled forward, hands outreached at the two. A million different emotions were flying across his face - confusion, anxiety, dismay, horror, and guilt leapt from his open mouth to his equally wide eyes. "Oh god, oh-"_

_Theseus moved forward, hand already on his wand, ready for anything. Determination flitted to his face, despite the way his hand was now shaking._

_Newts eyes flitted over to his brothers wand, and he put out a panicked hand. "Don't!" His voice cracked in fear, emotion already seeping heavily into his words like a toxic sludge. "I-"_

_"What?" Theseus' eyes flickered from his brother to his father, whose face was growing white and empty, despite the pain displayed in his eyes. "Dad, it's going to be okay, just-"_

_Newt stepped forward, then back again, one hand on his forehead and the other extended out, as if the simple movement of his fingers was going to change the actions of the moment. Theseus was going through every spell in his mind, casting some aside, trying to establish some kind of idea on the tip of his tongue - to pull the wheelbarrow out, to push the hippogriff off, to pull out his father, to-_

_He tossed a panicked glance at Newt. "Go get mum! Or - Newt, I don't know what to do, he's stuck underneath the thing, I-"_

_But it soon became evident to Theseus that Newt's thoughts were far more concerned with Peter than they were his father. Just the very idea filled Theseus with emotion, and his heart thudded, somehow quickening despite the speed and fear of the situation at hand. He tried to fill his voice with the desperation that he was feeling, but it came off far more agitated, far more angry._

_"Newt! This isn't a time to play farmer-" Regret tugged at him, but it didn't matter. "He's going to die, we can't leave him there, we need-"_

_"Theseus!" Newt screamed an interruption. Theseus knew that Newt had always been the more emotional one, despite his quite demeanor, but the tears spilling out of his eyes came as a surprise. There was nothing - nothing - nothing he could think of that wouldn't kill one of the other. Theseus lifted his wand, prepared to pull out the wheelbarrow from the side of the hippogriff-_

_"Theseus, you can't!" In one flick of his wand, Newt disarmed Theseus, sending the eldest Scamanders' wand flying past the log pile. Fury and panic burned beneath him, and his ears, pounding angrily, could barely hear Newts words. "If you pull that out, he'll die, he'll bleed out, it's the only thing-"_

_"That's our father!" His scream was deafening, loud enough to fill the entire plains, his mind roaring so loudly it could feel the entire country, it could fill the entire world. Every piece of his existence, every atom that made up his body, was boiling in anger, seething so violently in animal fury - the moment turned bright red, furious magma and fire, until the space turned black._

 

 

    "Newt Scamander is not a murderer."

     Her voice was quiet. Calm. Not necessarily reflective of the actual emotions within her brain, but honest and sweet sounding nonetheless.

     Theseus Scamander remained frozen, if only for a few seconds more, under Queenie's paralysis. Her wand was held steadily in her hand, ready for any movement from the man. His eyes showed the anger within him, the defense over the violation of thought and memory.

     "I watched the whole thing - and I am sorry." There was true sincerity to her voice, so pure and true, she hoped that the message could truly reach the eldest Scamanders ears. "I'm not saying what Newt said was right. But whatever personal prejudice you've got on his back? Sugar, that's not right. You can't deny a patient of treatment."

     Movement began to spread to the tip of Theseus' fingers, and Queenie watched every piece of his body with cautious eyes. Before the man could start spitting out the expected vulgarities, Queenie stood up, blonde hair bouncing on her head, and wand extended before her.

     "Now, sir, I'm not asking that you sit still forever," Her voice was as smooth and sweet as the perfume that enveloped her body, fruity and kind. A faint smile pursed her bright pink lips as she looked down at the man. "But until you listen to what I'm saying, I will stun you and stun you and stun you until you're nothing more than a statue."


	15. An Apology

Hey there.

 

Ugh.

 

Is that an okay way to start this? 'Hey there?' I hope so, because I don't want to backspace anything really. I'm just going to tell the truth here.

It has been a very, very, very long time since I updated this. I am truly, awfully, honestly so sorry for that. I am. I know what it's like to be the reader on a story that you love and I've been stopped like this before as well. I am honestly so sorry for anyone that was deeply invested in this story line, because, trust me, I've been in your shoes.

I just couldn't account for what my life would become this past year and I had neither the time nor the heart to continue it. I'm not sure how many people are still interested in this story, and that's another reason for posting this update/apology.

I would be happily willing to continue this story. Unfortunately, I don't have notes anywhere so I don't quite recall what my original intentions were with it, but the positive feedback that I've received truly did warm my heart and I would be happy to keep writing it. I'd just like to know if there are any people out there that are interested!

If anyone would like to let me know, whether it be by comment, kudo, inbox, contacting me on social media - I really would appreciate just knowing if this is something I should consider taking another look at.

I am really so, so sorry for leaving this behind so long. I said an awful lot of crap about how I wouldn't abandon it but after a certain point I did just walk away!

Any feedback - good or bad, truly - would be appreciated here. A huge thank you to anyone reading this update, to anyone who ever read my story, for being patient and kind and wonderful.

Thank you again.


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